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hyunefans · 19 hours
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ateez & the carne
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i think im pretty vocal about being latina bc im proud of being a brown queer woman #tripleminority but one of my favorite things to do is headcanon idols as latine and the teezers are no different so here’s how i think they would be at a carne + their latino names <3
@atzhouse @juyofans
𖥔 hongjoong would be a hit at the carne tbh. like alllll the tias would be on him asking him all these questions about what he does and stuff LOL he has the most latino energy imo and i feel like he would be chopping it up spilling chisme and learning all the family drama 😭 his latino name is hector btw.
𖥔 seonghwa would also be a tia favorite. they would NAWT be leaving him alone i fear… they’d get him in the cumbia circle QUICK brother isnt leaving without dancing to el baile del gorila by massore at least once. i feel like he’d love the music yk? his latino name is sebastián.
𖥔 yunho… sweet sweet yunho… everyone loves him bc he’s so kind and respectful. the only reason he wouldn’t be hounded by the tias is bc all the little cousins are HOARDING HIM TO PLAY WITH THEM!! he’ll take a break to eat and the kids are like NOOOOOO COME BACK :(( and it’s so cute. but his favorite part is obviously all the meat LMFAOOO his latino name is diego.
𖥔 yeosang is a family favorite. an all rounder if u will. he would make his way around the whole backyard to meet everyone bc he wants to know the whole family </3 he would get along best with the older cousins and their s/os i feel bc he’s so funny and so polite. his latino name is rafael.
𖥔 san is also a family favorite. he gets along with the tios most bc yk… beefy man and they wanna see what all the hype is about. the older male cousins are asking him his workout routine and EVERYTHING LLWMSKWNE but also like yun, the little cousins are dragging him to play with them and whining when he takes a break. the tias are gushing about how handsome he is. his latino name is santiago.
𖥔 mingi is another tia favorite! he’s tall and handsome and his stupid jokes makes them CACKLE they jajajaja the night away with him. but the older cousins are also invested BC he’s so funny LOL i’m picturing him in a setting with my own family and they’d also mess with him so much bc he’s gullible as shit 😭 but they’d love him trust <3 his latino name is miguel.
𖥔 wooyoung… now wooyoung is the type to jokingly flirt with the tias and they feed into it HELLA 😭 but he’s also super cool with the tios esp bc he likes cooking so he’s like learning alllllll the carne seasoning and marinating techniques and how to barbecue with them and that’s major brownie points for him. they’d coerce him into taking shots though bc that’s the only way to stop him from being a gremlin. his latino name is mateo.
𖥔 jongho #1 ladies man tbh the tias would think he’s so cute. he would probably feel a little overwhelmed at first bc carnes are LOUD and OBNOXIOUS and that’s just… not for him. but he would do anything to make his s/o happy and if that means attending these to win over ur family he will! he would kinda stick by his s/o’s side the whole time until he opens up and then he’s drinking with the older cousins and the tios like nothing! his latino name is josé.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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hyunefans · 2 days
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nonidol!jacob bae x fem!reader
yours and jacob’s mutual friend kevin is convinced you’re meant for each other.
▷ genre, warnings — s2f2l, slow burn (i’m telling you there is a reason why it’s over 30k), cursing/swearing (not from jacob LMAO), drinking, kissing (lol), fluff, maybe slight angst, the amount of pining increases the further you read, jacob gets bolder as the tale goes on, at times just too wholesome like wtf was i doing, a lot of drunk people, sometimes you and jacob r awk, low-key my bisexuality peeks thru, kevin the matchmaker™, jacob mf bae :’), HE TAKES HIS SHIRT OFF IM TELLING YOU HE TAKES HISJSDJBDICJDKFNJD
▷ total wc: 34.5k ayo
▷ taglist — @polarisjisung @oi-miya @justalildumpling @sickvision @yogurteume @wtfhyuck @stayonceeva​ @smiles4jungwon 
permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @ethereal-engene
a/n: the biggest thank you to my ash jie @ethereal-engene for letting me dump my live progress on her :’) love youuu ><
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EPISODE ONE (PILOT) : WHEN YOU MET KEVIN MOON
IT was a terrible eight o'clock in the morning when you arrived at the top of your calculus lecture hall on the second day back to university. As always, you were armed with a hot cup of tea in one hand, your backpack slung over your shoulder, and a willingness to get through this hour-long lecture.
Okay, perhaps the latter wasn’t exactly up to speed, but you were certain you’d get through this. Somehow.
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hyunefans · 2 days
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ANT!FRAGILE – 최산
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synopsis . in which you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
pairing . choi san & fem!reader
genre . smut (mdni!) fluff at the end, comfort, established relationship, idol!au, and a poor attempt of comedy.
taglist . @bro-atz | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡
word count . 3,1k
DISCLAIMER! unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).
NIC’S NOTES . this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠ ̄⁠ヘ⁠ ̄⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional! (again, to lazy to write it properly;;)
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you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.
you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.
but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?
you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.
it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.
you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?
but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.
you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.
but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.
you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.
“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.
“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.
“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.
“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.
“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.
“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.
“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”
“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.
“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”
and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 
during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”
“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 
“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.
“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.
“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.
“go kill yourself.” you huffed.
“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”
“touché” you agreed. 
the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.
“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”
“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.
“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”
“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”
“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.
you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.
after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.
once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.
“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.
remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.
you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.
suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.
once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.
“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.
you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.
your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.
“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.
“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”
“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.
“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.
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you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.
“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.
“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.
“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”
“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”
san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.
“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.
“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.
“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”
you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.
“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.
“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.
“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.
“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.
“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”
“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.
“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.
“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.
“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.
“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.
“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.
“no? let’s see if it is now,”
your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.
“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.
you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.
“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.
san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.
“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.
“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.
“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.
you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.
that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.
you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.
“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”
“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”
you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”
he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”
“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.
“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.
“babe,”
“hm?”
“shut up.”
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hyunefans · 3 days
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to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
217 notes · View notes
hyunefans · 3 days
Text
to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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hyunefans · 4 days
Text
home (khj) | one shot.
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—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.
—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst
—word count: 24k
—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*
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—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande
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Home.
When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;
Hongjoong.
It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;
The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.
As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.
So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;
Hongjoong.
—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”
“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”
“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.
You couldn’t say you were surprised.
However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going. 
“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.
“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.
“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—
“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.
“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”
“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.
“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.” 
“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.
“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.
“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?
“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.
“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm. 
“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.
“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking. 
“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady. 
“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.
“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.
“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.
“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”
“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”
“You sure?” You nod.
“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”
“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.
So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.
“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”
“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”
“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”
“This is early to you?” 
“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.
“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.
“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.
“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”
“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”
“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall. 
“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”
“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.
“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.
“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.
“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.
“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”
“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.
“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”
“How can you tell?”
“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”
“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.
“I’m just being honest.”
“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”
“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.
“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.
“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”
“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.
“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.
“Do you want me to be?”
“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.
“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.
“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”
“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.
“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.
“Mind if I grab one, too?”
“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.
“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.
“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light. 
“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.
“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.
“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.
So colorful, vibrant.
But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.
He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.
So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.
That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.
Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.
“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.
“Why are you smiling like that then?”
“Not because of you.” You tease.
“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”
“Just wanted to get some air.”
“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”
“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”
“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close. 
Kiss you. 
Hold your hand.
“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.
“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”
“You— wait, what?”
“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.
“A date, hm?”
“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.
“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.
“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”
“Where are you planning on taking me?”
“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.” 
And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too. 
After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.
Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.
That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.
“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.
“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”
“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”
“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”
“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.
“Did you just get home?”
“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”
“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.” 
“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.
“Joong, I have to study tonight.”
“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”
“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”
“Really?” He says excitedly.
“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”
“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.
Welp.
You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.
When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.
“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.
“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.
The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.
“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.
“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.
Surprisingly, you do finish everything.
“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.
“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.
“Are you almost done, though?”
“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.
The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.
So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.
“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.
Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.
“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.
“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.
“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”
“Just want a kiss.”
“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going. 
And you do.
The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.
His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.
“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples. 
“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.
“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.
“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?
The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.
His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.
“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm. 
“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.
Oops.
So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.
He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable. 
“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.
“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”
“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.
“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”
“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now. 
“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.
“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.
“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.
“This is pretty to you?”
“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.
“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.
“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.
“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”
“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.
“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.
You definitely slept well that night.
And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.
“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.
“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.
“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”
“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”
“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.
“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”
“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.
“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.
“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”
“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.
“What, why?”
“He’s just so good to me.”
“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”
“Really?” He smiles and nods.
“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”
“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.
So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this. 
All of this.
—SUMMER
“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.
“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.
“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.
“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’
When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son. 
But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.
You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.
It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.
“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.
“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.
“Whose house is it at?”
“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.
“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.
“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.
“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.
“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.
“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”
“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”
“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.
“Yeah, he’s an old man.”
“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”
“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.
“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”
“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.
“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless. 
The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.
“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property. 
You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.
“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi. 
“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”
“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”
“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.
“He does.” 
“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.
“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.
“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.
“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”
“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.
A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.
It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way. 
You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.
Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.
Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else. 
Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made. 
“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.
“That’s my girl.” 
“You look hella happy with her.”
“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.
“We’re not really talking.”
“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”
“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”
“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.
Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.
“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.
“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.
“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”
“Joong.” You giggle.
“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.
“No one’s perfect.”
“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.
“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”
“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”
“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.
“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.
“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.
“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”
“In the lot?!”
“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”
“Joong, someone might see us.”
“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.
“We don’t even have a condom!”
“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.
“Feels so good.” You whine.
“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”
“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.
You can’t believe him right now.
“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.
“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.
“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.
“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.
“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.
“Offer still stands, love.”
“What offer?”
“To sleep in my room.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”
“I do!”
“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”
“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses. 
“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.
“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.
“I hate sleeping without you.”
“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.
The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.
Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.
The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.
You, perfect for him.
You, everything to him.
And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.
You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.
You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.
You felt empty, like your other half was missing.
“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.
A night without his warmth.
“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.
When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.
Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.
How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.
—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE
“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”
“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”
“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.
“Yeah, you didn’t.”
“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”
“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”
“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”
“That’s not the point.”
“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason. 
“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”
“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”
“You’re being mean.”
“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.
“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”
“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.
Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.
But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.
Why were you doing everything wrong?
“Woo.” You cry into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”
“What happened?”
“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”
“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”
“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”
“Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“He didn’t say anything else to you?”
“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”
“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”
“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.
You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.
“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.
“Joong, get up.”
“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”
“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.
“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”
“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.
“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.
“Mingi’s in bed.”
“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.
“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.
“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.
“I’m sorry about this.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.” 
“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.
“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”
“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.
“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.” 
“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.
“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.
It shouldn’t be that way, though.
“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?
“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.
You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him. 
Oh, Hongjoong.
You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.
The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.
“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.
“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.
“You made breakfast?”
“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”
“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”
“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.
“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“It’s fine, Joong.”
“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”
“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.
“You’re so good to me.”
“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.
Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.
It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.
A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.
A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.
As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.
Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.
And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.
When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.
“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”
“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.
“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.
For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.
The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him. 
You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.
“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.
“Yeah, and?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.
“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.
But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too. 
“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.
“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”
“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now. 
“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”
“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.” 
“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”
“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.
Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.
During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.
Of course.
You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.
And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.
You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.
“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.
“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.
“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.
“Of course.”
“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”
“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”
“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.
She knows, she knows.
Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.
“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.
“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”
“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.
“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.” 
“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics. 
Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad. 
“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”
“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”
“Can you just listen to me for a second?”
“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.
“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.
“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”
“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”
“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.
“Yes I do!”  He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”
“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”
“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?
If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?
“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.
“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.
And it gets you every single time. 
You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.
“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open. 
Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.
That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
No one else matters to me.
You’re perfect.
Made for me.
My good girl.
And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.
Things were good, until they weren’t.
There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.
You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.
Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.
tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?
tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.
You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.
“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.
“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”
“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”
“Not my point.”
“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?
“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.
“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”
“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.” 
“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”
“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”
“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”
“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”
“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.
“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“
“To you, maybe.”
“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”
“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen. 
“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”
“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”
“How is it different?”
“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”
“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”
“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”
“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”
“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”
“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”
“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.
“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.
“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”
“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”
“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.
“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument. 
“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”
“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.
“What happened?”
“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”
“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”
“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.
“I’m gonna go home.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”
“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.
“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.
“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”
“Yeah, sure. You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.
The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.
“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.
Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—
That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.
But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.
Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.
It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.
Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.
hongjoong: where are you?
hongjoong: y/n
hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung
hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung
hongjoong: fuck this, whatever
Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.
But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.
What’s gonna be left of this?
What’s gonna be left of you?
Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.
yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at
wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?
wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping
wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument
yunho: they fought again? over what?
wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me
yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?
wooyoung: you and me both
yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me
wooyoung: thanks
wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit
He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.
When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.
“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.
“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”
“It was so stupid.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.
“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”
“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”
“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”
“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”
“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”
“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.
“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”
“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”
“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”
“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.
“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”
“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.
“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”
“I need to shower.”
“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes. 
“Are you at least feeling better?”
“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”
“It’s cause of me.”
“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.
Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.
It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.
“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.
“Hanging up more?”
“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.
“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”
“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”
“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.
“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”
“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”
“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods. 
“She just needs her friends.”
“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.” 
“We were good friends before we even dated.”
“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.
“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.
“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”
“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.
“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.
“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”
“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.
“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.” 
“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.
“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”
And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.
Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.
The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—
You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change. 
Not anymore.
“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.
“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”
“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.
“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”
“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.
“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”
“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”
“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?” 
“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”
“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”
“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”
“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.
But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.
“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”
“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”
“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.
“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”
“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”
“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.
“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.
“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.
You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.
Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?
When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.
You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two. 
He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.
“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.
“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.
“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips. 
“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes. 
It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.
Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.
As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.
But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that. 
Fuck the rest.
—CURRENT
“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.
“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.
“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.
“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.
You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.
So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.
They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.
They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.
You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.
You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.
The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.
When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.
“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”
“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.
“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.
“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.
“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.
“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.
“You okay, baby girl?” 
“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.
“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.
“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”
“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.
Nor do you want to on your birthday.
“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”
“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.
“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”
“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.
Of your home.
“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”
“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.
“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.
The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,
Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.
The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.
A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.
It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.
The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’
hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?
tara: yeah! should i leave soon?
hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here
tara: i’ll be on my way!
tara: joongie i’m outside
hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec
You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles. 
Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.
All of that going to waste.
hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?
tara: yup!
There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].
tara: are you going to channie’s?
hongjoong: yeah, are you?
tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it
hongjoong: go 😞
tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?
hongjoong: nah shes not..
tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!
hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️
You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.
“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”
“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”
“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.
Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.
“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.
When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.
Maybe you were just the excuse.
The rebound.
The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.
It was never about you.
And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.
You are.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”
“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.
Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.
But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.
It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.
2 years of nothing.
Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.
But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.
Because did you deserve this? All of this? 
It was never about you.
Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had. 
Now, there is nothing left of you.
Nothing left of this home you built.
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—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡
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—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid
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hyunefans · 7 days
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007!ji changmin x f!reader
you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.
▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)
▷ word count. 11.1k
▷ based on. casino royale (2006)
a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!
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YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.
It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.
After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.
You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.
It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—
A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.
“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.
You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”
Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”
You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.
The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.
But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.
“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”
You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.
Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.
The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”
“Ah, business. You know how it is.”
“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”
“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.
You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”
He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”
When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.
“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.
You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”
“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.
The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.
“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.
“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)
Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”
The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”
“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.
Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”
“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.
“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”
Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.
“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.
He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”
“Trotting the globe, I bet?”
“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”
You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”
He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”
An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”
“Significant others then,” he offered.
You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”
“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”
You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”
“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.
“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.
“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”
“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.
“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”
“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”
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The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.
Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.
“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.
Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.
“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.
You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”
The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.
The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”
“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”
Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.
“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”
Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.
Assistant? As if.
For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.
The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”
(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)
Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”
“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”
With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.
“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”
“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.
You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”
His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”
As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.
He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”
“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.
“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”
“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”
Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.
You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”
The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.
“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”
He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.
Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.
“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.
At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.
You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.
You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”
He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”
He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”
You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.
“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”
“Got it.”
Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.
Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.
You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.
By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.
The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)
It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.
Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.
A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”
“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”
Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.
A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.
Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.
You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”
His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”
Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.
Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.
When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”
You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.
He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.
You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”
There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.
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The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.
You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.
The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.
Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.
“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.
Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.
You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.
As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.
When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”
“Right away, sir.”
You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.
The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”
With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.
From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”
You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.
“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”
Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”
“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”
“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”
He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”
“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”
You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.
Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.
“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”
You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”
“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.
His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”
“You don't know then.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”
A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”
A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.
“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”
One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.
When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.
Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.
Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.
The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.
You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.
He was looking for his tell, you realized.
The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.
The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.
You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?
It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.
“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.
You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.
“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.
They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.
“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”
Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.
Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”
A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”
You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.
“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.
Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”
You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.
When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.
You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.
“I need more money.”
“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.
His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”
“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”
Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”
Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”
“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”
“Ji.”
Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.
You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.
Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.
Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”
“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”
Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.
Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.
Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”
“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”
What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.
Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”
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The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.
After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.
You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.
“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.
You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.
“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.
Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.
You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.
You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”
“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.
Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”
The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”
“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.
You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.
“Safe,” he gasped to you.
“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.
You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.
You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.
“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.
As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.
But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.
“Fucking hell, that was a close—”
White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.
They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.
“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.
Relief was short-lived.
Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.
Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.
For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.
You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.
“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.
You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.
Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.
Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.
“Yn—”
“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.
You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—
With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.
“Not so fast.”
Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.
“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”
You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.
You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—
A shot rang out.
Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.
The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.
You nearly died just then.
With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.
There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.
The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.
Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.
Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.
With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.
It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.
In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.
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You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.
And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.
Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.
Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.
Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”
His opponent swallowed.
The game resumed.
With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.
“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.
“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.
As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.
Everyone was all in.
“Reveal your cards, if you please.”
One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.
All that was left were Changmin's.
With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—
“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”
Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.
From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.
Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.
Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”
“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”
He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”
You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”
The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.
“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”
“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”
“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.
Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.
Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”
“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.
“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”
“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”
With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.
His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.
The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.
So loud, that you almost missed it.
You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?
There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.
“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”
A muffled response in return.
“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”
You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.
Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.
Changmin grabbed you and booked it.
Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.
“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.
You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”
Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.
Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.
One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.
A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.
Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.
You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.
With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.
“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.
He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”
You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.
You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.
The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.
“Yn, you better be fucking running.”
He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.
Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.
The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.
He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.
There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.
The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.
With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.
Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.
The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—
You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.
When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.
As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.
You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”
“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.
You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.
From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.
“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.
“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.
Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”
“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”
Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.
You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.
He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.
“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”
You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.
“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”
“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”
He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”
His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”
And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.
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When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.
Was he dead?
“You're not dead.”
His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”
Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.
When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.
It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.
No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.
Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”
Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.
The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.
“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.
Hurt, you'd been so hurt.
You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”
Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.
“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”
You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”
“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.
The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…
He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.
You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”
For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.
“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”
The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.
“Changmin—”
“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”
You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”
He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”
We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.
“W.”
The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.
Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”
You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.
Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.
“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.
“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”
You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”
“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.
A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”
“Giddy?”
“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.
He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.
He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”
Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.
You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.
Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭
tbz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet
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hyunefans · 7 days
Text
the best of the best — jeong yunho
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in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
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yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was well, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making his sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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hyunefans · 7 days
Text
𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader
yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?
9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading
a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz
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“I don't believe you.”—
The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot. 
—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—
The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like. 
His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were. 
An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat. 
The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now. 
“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”
He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing. 
You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”
“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”
It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”
“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”
“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”
“I read shit.”
“Who doesn't?”
“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious. 
Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”
He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program. 
You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”
“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”
“I dunno, but it’s you.” 
He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”
Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in. 
Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere. 
“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”
“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”
“Well, yes!”
You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”
Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes. 
“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”
He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”
“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—
“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”
You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”
“You don't?” 
“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”
“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently. 
“That's even worse!”
He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”
You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”
“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”
That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.
“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”
You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”
He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”
Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”
“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.” 
You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder. 
The buzz was getting better. 
“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do. 
Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”
Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content. 
A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”
He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”
“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.
“Well, is it working?”
He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”
You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
“However you'd like them.”
You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”
He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”
“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise. 
“Okay, one, two, three—”
“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once. 
Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?
“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes. 
Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout. 
You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state. 
You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”
He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you. 
And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”
You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind. 
He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne. 
You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his. 
You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.
He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right. 
When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle. 
“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore. 
“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”
“Never in your life?”
“Never in my life.”
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“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”
Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”
He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right? 
(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)
“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep. 
“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”
Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”
“Oh, was I?”
Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”
“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”
“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”
Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you. 
After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words. 
But how could he fucking forget your name? 
He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again. 
“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap. 
“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked. 
Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind. 
When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”
Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?
“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”
“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”
Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get. 
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You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever. 
“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights. 
Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”
You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late. 
Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen. 
“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush. 
“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”
“Dompt shae it.”
“Yeosaaaang!” 
You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not. 
Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.
Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”
Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid. 
You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart? 
Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”
“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”
“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”
Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing. 
As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”
He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one. 
“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side. 
Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”
You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”
“She hooked up with Yeosang!”
You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”
Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”
“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”
“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”
“We did!” Reina chirped. 
“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party. 
Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”
“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”
You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”
“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”
“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”
You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown. 
“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged. 
Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles. 
You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach. 
“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off. 
“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. 
You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”
When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”
Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”
“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”
Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”
You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”
“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone. 
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Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone. 
But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you. 
Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity. 
His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”
“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”
Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”
Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”
“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing. 
“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side. 
His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”
Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?
For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—
“Gotcha.” 
Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”. 
“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense. 
His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button. 
It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it. 
Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you. 
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment. 
Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—
He figured it out. 
@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?
Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen. 
@/studioyn: sunny side up
Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”
“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed. 
Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job. 
@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!
@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh
@/yskang99: i like that better actually
@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao
Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily. 
@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨
For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy. 
@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk 
@/yskang99: would that matter?
@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r
@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/ 
He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you. 
@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)
A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course. 
He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.
Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week. 
@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?
@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat
@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?
The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled. 
@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u
@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))
@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far? 
Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you. 
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“Yn! We're gonna be late!” 
You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips. 
Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”
You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone. 
The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it. 
As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together. 
“What?” You blinked over at her innocently. 
“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night. 
You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said. 
“Right. He's your man.”
You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina. 
God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. 
At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday. 
Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you. 
“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”
Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume. 
You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd. 
@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!
“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear. 
You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”
@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??
@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x
You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand. 
The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway. 
Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together). 
When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den. 
“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice. 
“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw. 
You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang. 
“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty. 
You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”
“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face. 
You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”
“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”
“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”
He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”
“Reina,” your friend replied. 
“Yn,” you added on. 
Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”
Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—
“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”
He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’
Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”
“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”
“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”
You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”
She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”
“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”
There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her. 
But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed. 
“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash. 
She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”
You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang. 
Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed. 
Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would… 
Oh. 
Well, now you just felt stupid. 
Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”
“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk. 
“You're thinking that you're stupid.” 
“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”
Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”
“But that was Yura, right?”
She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”
“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with. 
“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”
You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”
“I'm not sure, hon.” 
You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter. 
You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts. 
The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place. 
You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless. 
“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him. 
She held your spiked juice while you texted him. 
As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.
If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about. 
Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder. 
On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—
You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music. 
“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”
“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?
Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?
“Where is he?” You asked. 
It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms. 
You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart. 
Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly. 
“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions. 
“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”
Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”
It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.
He was waiting for you to finish. 
You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”
You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”
He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”
“She…?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”
Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was. 
“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”
And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.” 
The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”
“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?” 
Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you. 
You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk. 
“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”
You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together. 
You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again. 
You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"
His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.
Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."
“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”
You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”
Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled. 
“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist. 
Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—
“You okay?” He mused. 
You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest. 
A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”
“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck. 
You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him. 
In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky. 
You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years. 
“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky. 
You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown. 
You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.” 
He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile. 
“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car. 
“Mhm?”
You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?” 
Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”
You blinked, lips parting. 
Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”
Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with. 
“I'm sure you don't.”
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a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @empire-x @kflixnet @atzhouse @cromernet
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hyunefans · 11 days
Text
candy
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in which: you're their sweetheart who tastes sweet like candy, and they simply cannot get enough.
pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader
word count: 6.1k
content: smut, gang bang (more like four threesomes), nicknames (they call you sweetheart), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), oral, anal, double penetration (x4!), creampies, filthy, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: i actually wasn't planning a part two, but... let's just say i had a dream... tysm to @k-hotchoisan and @yungilia who both helped me w this one hehe and sorry @juyofans and @yunhoszn but y'all just got another submission for your event LMAO also I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IT'S SO LONG THIS TIME AROUND HELP
networks:
@atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet
@newworldnet @san-network @wonderlandnet
frat bros!ateez: part one | part two
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Life pretty much went back to normal after your initiation was completed. Okay, that's a big fucking lie. You still were their sweetheart, but you were also their sweetheart, which meant that you had a little more obligations that the frat bros bestowed upon you.
"Hey, Wooyoung," you greeted the boy as you stepped into the kitchen. "Cooking?"
"Yeah," Wooyoung sighed slightly dramatically. "Yeosang wanted fried chicken again, so I'm making fried chicken again."
"So then why are you making curry?"
"Because I don't want curry, sweetheart. I want curry."
You bit back a laugh, but a little puff of air left your lungs, the acknowledgement bringing a smile to Wooyoung's face. After stirring the pot a little, Wooyoung took another spoon and scooped some of the curry.
"Give it a taste," Wooyoung told you.
He brought the spoon to your lips, and after blowing on it to cool it off, you tasted it.
"It's good! But it's definitely missing something," you responded.
"What? Is it salt?"
"I... I actually don't know."
"Let me try it."
You thought Wooyoung was going to try his own spoonful, but no. Instead, he kissed you, his tongue swirling around yours to get the lingering taste of the curry. Refusing to let up, he turned the stove off and walked you away from the stove to a (surprisingly) clean countertop before pinning your waist against it, his lips locking with yours feverishly.
"You taste so sweet, sweetheart," Wooyoung exhaled blissfully after the kiss ended. "I could just eat you up..."
Without a warning, Wooyoung lifted you up and sat you down on the kitchen countertop, his head tilted up as he looked at you in anticipation. The way he looked in that moment, the pink tint of his lips, was so inviting that you ran your fingers through his hair and rooted your hands on the back of his neck as you kissed him.
"Fuck, I need you right now, sweetheart," Wooyoung mumbled against your lips.
You felt his fingers brush along your waist as he grabbed your shirt and forcefully pulled it over your head, your shirt flying out of the kitchen. His hands then moved down to your jeans, and he pulled them off within seconds before spreading your legs wide open. He took two fingers and rubbed them along your folds, your arousal collecting on his fingers.
"And it looks like you need me too," he said cheekily. "Look at how wet you are, sweetheart."
"Wooyoung, please," you were so close to begging him to shut up. "Just fuck me already."
"You won't let me savor my meal? You won't let me taste how sweet you are down here?"
He sunk down, his lips hovering over your cunt. Running your fingers through his hair, you pushed his head closer to you and said, "Dear God, just fucking do something, please."
Wooyoung only got to lick a singular stripe up your cunt when he lost all his patience. Just seeing the way your pink pussy quivered with anticipation made his dick press so hard against his pants that he almost was in actual physical pain.
"Hop off and bend over," he grunted out, his voice hitting a new level of low octave.
You quickly obeyed and waited for him to unbuckle his pants and stroke his cock a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your folds. Then, without warning, he thrust his cock into you, your waist hitting the countertop, and your entire body moving forward as his hips slammed against yours. It took everything in you to choke back a moan, and it only got more difficult for you from there when Wooyoung started lightly slapping your ass.
"Fuck, Wooyoung," you moaned in a hushed tone. "You feel so good."
"Yeah? You like that sweetheart?"
You couldn't see Wooyoung's face, but you knew for a fact he had that devilish smile on his face that made your heart flutter. Not only did your heart flutter, but your cunt did too when he spanked your ass a little harder than the time before, earning a little yelp from you.
Suddenly, you heard someone drop one of the bowls from the kitchen and turned your heads to see an uninvited guest standing awkwardly in between the living room and the kitchen.
"W— I— I just— My chicken—" Yeosang stuttered as he saw you fully and completely naked bent over on the kitchen countertop with Wooyoung's dick deep inside you, his face going bright red.
"Forget about your chicken for a second, Sangie. You should pay attention to our sweetheart," Wooyoung waved the boy over. Then, pulling out and spreading your folds to give the guy a better look of your cunt spilling cream onto the floor, Wooyoung said, "Look at how wet she is... We gotta do something about it."
Yeosang gulped nervously as he stared at your arousal covered cunt, saliva continuing to pool in his mouth at an alarming rate. He leaned down to face your cunt, his hands clutching your thighs as Wooyoung continued to egg the boy on, "You want a taste, right? Come on, you know you want to."
It was true— Yeosang desperately wanted a taste. He moved so that he was right behind you and spreading your asscheeks wide, giving him better access to your cunt before leaving the most intense kiss on your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked up as much of your arousal as he possibly could. Your legs trembled completely and could barely keep you up as you leaned further into the countertop, a long but quiet moan escaping you.
"Here, sweetheart," Wooyoung leaned onto the countertop and grabbed your cheeks. "Lemme give you a taste of you as well."
With Yeosang eating you out from behind and Wooyoung practically eating your face off, you could feel the tension building in your stomach, your hormones desperately wanting some sort of release. So, you whined into Wooyoung's mouth and reached back to grip the roots of Yeosang's hair, indicating to both of them that you just wanted them inside you already.
 You and Yeosang both stood upright, the boy's hands immediately grabbing your waist and spinning you around so he could press himself against you. He pressed his forehead against yours, and you could feel his heavy panting hit your skin as he slowly started stripping down, his lips nearing yours. You wrapped your hands around the back of Yeosang's neck as you decided to cut to the chase and kiss him, the sweet taste of you lingering on your tongue as Yeosang made out with you passionately.
Wooyoung, meanwhile, was grinding his waist against yours, his cock rubbing up and down your asscrack. Not going to lie, he was a little frustrated at the way you were giving Yeosang so much of your attention that he decided to take some of it back. He quickly shoved his cock back inside you, practically pushing you further into Yeosang's arms.
"Oh, fuck, Wooyoung!" you whined as he slowly moved his hips, his cock sliding in and out of you with relative ease. "S-So good!"
Wooyoung hummed in response, his hips snapping up sharply to meet yours suddenly, making you yelp and cling closer to Yeosang. Yeosang, who had unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his pale chest and rock solid abs, was losing his mind gradually the more he felt your nipples and breasts rub against his chest, his own cock throbbing and practically ready to burst.
"Sweetheart, I don't think I can wait any longer," Yeosang whispered to you, the desperation obvious in his voice. "Can I please fuck you?"
Yeosang asking you for consent was honestly the cutest fucking thing, and you wanted to savor the moment more, but you were unable to because Wooyoung was making all sorts of raunchy noises as he thrust sharply into you, his hands holding onto your waist tightly.
"Yes, Yeosang," you responded, your breathing hitching with every thrust from Wooyoung. "Fill me up, baby."
Yeosang wasted no time. He pulled his cock out of his pants and rubbed the tip against your clit before pushing his own way into your cunt, both boys now fully inside you. What drove you even more insane was when Yeosang hooked his arm behind your knee and pulled your leg up, giving both him and Wooyoung easier access to your fluttering pussy.
"Try her ass— it's so fucking tight, and it feels amazing," Yeosang advised the guy behind you.
With a smirk and a nod, Wooyoung pulled out and pressed the tip of his cock against your asshole, the sensation already driving you insane even though all he was doing was teasing you with just the tip.
"Relax, sweetheart," Wooyoung whispered into your ear. "Otherwise it's going to hurt."
You did as Wooyoung instructed, allowing him to move his cock in and out of you with relative ease. You flung your head back and began moaning a little more loudly as the tension within you built up exponentially.
It was when Yeosang rubbed against your G-spot perfectly several times in a row did the tension snap. With one hand on Yeosang's shoulder and the other  on Wooyoung's arm, you grabbed onto them tightly as you came loudly, your moan and cries of relief echoing in the kitchen and living room.
Your walls and ass tightened up as you came, both boys wincing as they, too, nearly came upon feeling you squeezing their cocks.
"You felt that good, sweetheart?" Wooyoung asked breathlessly. "You like the two of us fucking you like this?"
"God, ye-es!" you cried. "So fucking good!"
Both boys chuckled and continued to fuck you senseless until they were forced to stop when another person interrupted the fun.
"You've gotta be shitting me— What the fuck are you two doing?!" San yelled, completely startling you to attention.
You turned your head to see through bleary, teary eyes the figures of San and Jongho, the two of them standing in identical poses with their arms crossed over their chest.
"What the fuck does it look like, dumbass?" Wooyoung retorted.
"You know Hongjoong hyung and Seonghwa hyung said to leave her alone, so why are you fucking her?" Jongho clarified.
"How can you expect us to stay away when she looks like this?" Yeosang questioned as he grabbed your face and held it up to show the other frat bros your half-lidded, glazed over eyes with beads of perspiration dotting your forehead and making your hair stick to your skin. "Our poor sweetheart needs us to fuck her brains out... Did you really think we would say no?"
Just the sight of you looking so pathetic and desperate, Yeosang's and Wooyoung's cocks getting squeezed so tightly in your holes, the two of them fondling and gripping the appealing parts of your body— San and Jongho understood.
"Sannie..." you whined, the boy's face turning red. Jongho's face matched that shade when you continued, "Jjongie..."
That did it. The two of them quickly joined the other two who were fucking you, their clothes coming off at a record speed. San gently gripped your throat and turned you to face him, his lips hungrily meeting yours while Jongho started stroking himself off by himself, only for you to reach out for his cock and start stroking him yourself.
Wooyoung was still steadily rutting into you while the newcomers got situated because after you came, he was so ready to cum since your ass squeezed him so tight. His breathing hitched, and white started to fill his vision, making him pull out of your ass and struggle but successfully slip his cock into your cunt, the two cocks in you driving you insane.
"Shit, I'm cumming," Yeosang hissed before biting his lower lip, his eyes fluttering shut.
Both cocks, both waists slammed powerfully into you at once, Yeosang groaning loudly while Wooyoung bit your shoulder. San released you from your chain of kisses with him, letting you gasp and moan as you felt both boys fill you up, their ropes of cum spurting inside you nonstop. Yeosang pulled out of you first, but Wooyoung remained inside you as he whispered, "Keep our load safe, sweetheart. Don't let a single drop spill in my kitchen."
"Yeah, wait, what're we doing fucking our sweetheart in the kitchen?" Jongho asked.
"She should be somewhere more comfortable, right sweetheart?" San cooed.
Normally, you would've slapped San silly for treating you like that, but you were so desperate for both him and Jongho to stuff you full with their thick cocks that you just let him do as he pleased. San ended up passing you on to Jongho, who quickly slid his fat cock in you, spreading your walls so open that you felt completely stuffed by his cock. Then, when he cupped the underside of your asscheeks and lifted you, you felt him even more, his cock driving deeper into you. You clung to him as he bounced you on his cock and walked you into the living room— at that point, you knew that none of the fraternity brothers were going to drop you, so you trusted them to just carry you around wherever they wanted to take you. 
Jongho sat down on the couch, making you automatically sit on his lap. He wasted no time bouncing you faster on his cock, his hands still firmly planted on your ass. You clung to his shoulders and let out little yelps and cries until San stuffed your face full with his cock.
"Quiet, sweetheart," San warned. "We don't want the hyungs finding out, do we?"
San's cock muffling your response, you settled for nodding before focusing on licking and sucking his cock while Jongho worked overtime underneath you, his hips bucking upwards every so often to give you that extra pleasureful sensation. You gripped Jongho's shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to relentlessly fuck you.
Suddenly, San pulled his cock out of your mouth, a line of saliva trailing from the tip of your tongue to the tip of his cock. San inhaled sharply, the sight of you looking up at him with your mouth open and begging for his cock driving him simply insane. The thing was that he desperately wanted to fuck you as well, so he quickly made his way around the couch so that he was standing behind you. He held your waist with one hand and positioned his cock against your cunt before pushing his way through.
The thickness from both Jongho and San was too much for your brain to comprehend. You desperately wanted to cry out loudly, but you didn't want Hongjoong or Seonghwa to realize what was going on, so you settled for flinging your head back and biting your lower lip painfully hard.
"Good girl, sweetheart," Jongho complimented you when you brought your head back and buried it in the crook of his neck. "Such a good girl staying quiet like we asked."
"Oh, fuck, Jongho," you whimpered, the compliments from him turning you on even more. "M-More..."
"You want me to keep calling you a good girl?" Jongho chuckled, his laugh making your fingers and toes tingle with excitement. "Then be a good girl and gimme a kiss."
You happily obliged, your lips locking furiously with Jongho's. His grip on your waist got tighter when you ran your fingers through his locks, your thumb brushing against his ear. And since Jongho was so busy kissing you, San took it upon himself to continue showering you with compliments.
"Look at how well your cunt is swallowing our fat cocks. You were really made for us, sweetheart. A good girl, a good fucking sweetheart," he muttered in between grunts as he thrust sporadically.
That's when San made the decision to spank your ass before grabbing it with his large, firm hand, making you nearly bite Jongho's lower lip. It was the combination of San slapping your ass and his hips moving at just the right angle that made you cum for the second time that day. Breaking your lips away from Jongho's, you let out a breathy whine into neck, making him shiver with excitement.
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart," Jongho bit out, his voice strained. "I'm cumming too!"
San pulled out and let Jongho have you to himself for several more thrusts before he came inside, the feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing inside you stimulating you further. The second Jongho pulled out, San immediately re-entered you, refusing to let a single drop of cum spill onto the couch. He turned you over— with his dick still inside, making the sensation feel incredibly new and amazing— and pinned you to the couch, his hands holding your arms above your head. He looked so deathly serious in that moment, and it made you nervous, excited, and definitely more horny.
"Sweetheart," he drawled as he pressed his body closer to yours. "I need you to do me a favor."
"Y-Yes, Sannie?"
San hummed as he started rolling his waist into you, the feeling of his cock, now without any obstructions, tapping your cervix making stars fill your vision. In an insanely low register, he continued, "I need you to keep what happened here quiet. Do you understand?"
You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. He held both your arms down with one hand, allowing him to stick his fingers in your mouth and force you to open your jaw.
"Use your words, sweetheart. You are not to tell Hongjoong hyung or Seonghwa hyung that we fucked you, got it?"
"Yes, Sannie," you whispered.
"Good girl," San smiled at you so angelically as if he didn't just practically threaten you seconds prior, the look on his face making your heart race faster. "You're such a sweetheart."
San leaned back and let go of your arms so he could grip your waist, his hips gyrating into yours faster, a solid look of concentration befalling his face. You watched through bleary eyes as his hair covered his darkened eyes and as he licked and bit his lower lip.
It didn't take long for him to finish— he was honestly holding himself back ever since he heard your breathy whine into Jongho's neck, but he wanted you to himself for just a moment, to enjoy having the sweetheart belong to him and only him for a split second. Slamming his waist into yours so hard that your head nearly hit the arm rest, San came hard, his cockhead hitting your cervix with just enough force that you came instantly, stars completely filling your vision at that point.
You don't know how, but while you were still recovering from the high of your orgasm, San, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyoung had managed to get you dressed for the most part— they couldn't figure out your bra for the life of them unfortunately. When San slipped your panties on, you heard him whisper, "Don't let a single drop spill, and I'll reward you later."
"What if she does spill, though?" Wooyoung asked.
"Then we punish her," Jongho stated definitively.
"I don't know, I think she would enjoy that," Yeosang snickered.
"No, like we dump all of our chores on her," San explained. "A real punishment."
Suddenly, the five of you heard the garage door begin to open. You blinked the daze out of your eyes and did your best to regain you sanity while the other four made a mad dash for it.
"Hi, sweetheart," Hongjoong greeted you comfortably.
"Oh, hi," you squeaked out as you pressed your legs together, suddenly remembering San's warning.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Seonghwa, who followed Hongjoong shortly thereafter, sat down on the couch right next to you.
"Y-Yeah! I'm fine," you cleared your throat and scooted away from Seonghwa before he could put his arm around your shoulder as he normally did. "I just remembered I have a... A project! Yeah, I have a project to finish so I'll, um, I'll be in my room."
With that, you scurried off, and instead of going to your room like you said you would, you went to San's room to figure out how fucking long you would have to hold the cum inside you. But, before you could even grab the handle, Seonghwa grabbed your wrist. He dragged you to your bedroom and threw you on your bed, Hongjoong trailing after you two and closing the door behind him.
"Seonghwa?!" you exclaimed as he pinned your arms on either side of you. "W-What— W-Why—"
"Tell me the truth, sweetheart," Seonghwa said, his voice dangerously low. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"What?!"
"Seonghwa, what the actual fuck?" Hongjoong piped up. "Listen, sweetheart. You gotta tell us if anything happened between you and anyone else while we were gone."
"No...?"
"Sweetheart," Hongjoong's tone turned a shade darker. "Tell me the truth."
"Yes..."
"Oh my fucking God, and after we specifically told them not to?!"
Rather than storm out of your room and yell at the boys, Hongjoong sat on the bed next to you and explained, "I guess we should've told you too... But the reason we didn't want anyone touching you— including us!— is because we value you and the work you to for us, and your initiation was one thing, but we don't want to break your heart or anything like that because we don't want to lose you."
"Also, we didn't want the college finding out," Seonghwa added.
"Yes, that too."
A mixture of embarrassment, shame, and guilt swept over your body.  "I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you apologized with a heavy sigh, your eyes downcast as you looked down at your lap. "Can I make it up to you somehow?"
There was a brief moment of silence in the room before Hongjoong leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your ear as he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.
"I think it's only fair if we get a turn as well," Hongjoong murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Is that okay?"
"Yes, Hongjoong," you breathed out, the feeling of his hand slowly riding up your thigh arousing you. "That sounds fair."
Hongjoong smiled briefly before running his fingers through the hair on the back of your head, his lips meeting yours softly. He kissed you sweetly, pulling him into you, love and affection swirling through your head and heart as he started so gently with you— that being said, you wanted more from him than this vanilla bullshit. The two of you collapsed on the bed entangled in each others' arms, leaving Seonghwa to get started on stripping you down. The second he pulled your pants off, though, he got an eyeful.
"Is this... Is this what I think it is?" Seonghwa asked as he saw the white spill out of you.
You pressed your lips together and looked away, your face turning bright red as you wordlessly confirmed Seonghwa's assumption. Hongjoong turned your head to face him, the darkness in his eyes building as he said, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"
With one swift motion, Hongjoong turned you around so that you were on all fours and your ass was high in the air. He spread your asscheeks and folds open to see the cum from the four boys who fucked you prior spill out of you and onto your bed, staining your sheets. The sight of your red, raw pussy and cum dripping out of it was a little too much for Hongjoong. He could barely wait at that point. He quickly pulled his cock out of his pants and lined his cock up with your cunt before sliding in easily thanks to the cum and your arousal.
"This pisses me off, not going to lie," Hongjoong admitted quietly mainly to himself. "I hate that they deliberately disobeyed me and had their way with you."
"Then have your way with me," you responded absentmindedly.
"Yeah? You sure?" Hongjoong immediately perked up.
"Yes, Joong. I want you to have your way with me," this time you truly meant what you said.
That permission was all Hongjoong needed to thrust into you with full force, your entire body lurching forward as a result. Your arms buckled under you, making you press your chest into the bed, a moan mixed with a cry leaving your lips.
"Don't tell me someone spanked you as well," Hongjoong said through gritted teeth as he noted the light pink hand mark on your ass.
"I bet it was San," Seonghwa said confidently as he knelt on the bed before you, his pretty cock pressing against your cheek. "Right, sweetheart?"
You let out a little noise indicating to them that they were right, an annoyed sigh leaving Hongjoong's soul. Grabbing your ass harshly, he said, "Let's replace his mark then."
You yelped when Hongjoong's palm made quick contact with your ass, the stinging feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he continued to rut into you at a gradual pace. Seonghwa, meanwhile, grabbed you by your cheeks and guided you upwards, his cock tapping your squished cheeks.
"Won't you suck this for me, sweetheart?" Seonghwa asked you nicely, a stark comparison to what the other frat bro behind you was doing.
You enthusiastically took him into your mouth, a long exhale leaving him as he felt you bottom out. He pet your hair and mouthed good girl to you, making your entire body tingle with excitement. His hand on the back of your head, he kept you in place as he moved his hips slowly, his pace uneven compared to Hongjoong's, who was speeding up exponentially.
After leaving another quick, tight slap on your red ass, Hongjoong reached over and grabbed your arms, pulling them back so your wrists were crossed behind your back, Hongjoong's hands keeping you in place. Your back arched in a different way than it was arched earlier, sending waves of pleasure through Hongjoong's body.
"You feel so fucking good, sweetheart," he grunted. "I'm gonna cum inside."
As Hongjoong's thrusts got more aggressive, Seonghwa's demeanor changed. He went from being angelic to a total devil when he firmed his grip on your head and started moving you at a faster pace, his cock reaching the back of your throat and making you gag occasionally.
When he thrust into you powerfully one final time, Hongjoong ended up shoving you so far into Seonghwa that his cock hit the back of your throat hard, making you gag loudly. Seonghwa let you breathe as Hongjoong's cum filled you up, and when he pulled out, all the cum seeped out of you at an uncontrollable rate. Hongjoong got off the bed and took a step back to appreciate how fucked out you looked while Seonghwa fully got on the bed, his cock raring and ready to go. That's when someone knocked on the door.
"Hey, sweetheart, is what San saying t— oh my God?!" Mingi shrieked as he saw the vulgar position you were in.
Normally, you would be embarrassed, but you were so far gone in your horniness at that point that you just wanted anyone and everyone to fill you up and fuck you like a fucking slut.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Yunho frowned at the two older frat bros in the room. "You're the ones that told us that our sweetheart was off limits, so why does everyone get to fuck her but us?!"
"Well, I don't see why you can't now," Hongjoong said with a sigh.
"Sweetheart, would it be okay if Yunho and Mingi joined us?" Seonghwa asked you.
Your eyes half-lidded and full of desperation, you nodded and beckoned the two tall boys to come and abuse you.
Yunho and Mingi did not need to be told twice. They quickly stripped themselves down and hopped on the bed, Mingi beating Yunho to your lips. Mingi wrapped his fingers around your neck and guided you to kneel in front of him, his fingers squeezing lightly, giving you the right amount of pressure for immense pleasure. Yunho, meanwhile, barely started fingering you before the knot that was slowly building inside you quickly snapped, his fingers curling and grazing your G-spot perfectly. You cried loudly into Mingi's mouth and practically flung yourself onto him as you squirted all over your bed.
The sight of your arousal and five boys' mixed cum dripping down your leg was too much for Yunho. He practically tore you away from Mingi and brought him to you, your ass facing him as you went back down on all fours. You muffled a moan as you felt Yunho slip one of his slender fingers into your asshole, the finger gliding in a little too easily, and it was still too easy when he slipped in another finger.
"I heard Wooyoung loosened you up a bit earlier, huh? Well, that's helpful," Yunho chuckled delightedly. "This still may hurt a little bit, though, so relax, sweetheart."
Yunho didn't lie. It fucking hurt when he slowly shoved his cock inside you, but the second he bottomed out, that pain turned to pleasure, the throbbing of his cock inside your tight ass turning you on even more. He stayed stationary for a bit, allowing you to get used to his immense sized shoved all the way inside you.
The other two, however, were also eager to fuck you, and they didn't want to wait any longer either. Seonghwa slid into the space under you, the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit and making your legs wobble while Mingi knelt before you the same way Seonghwa had earlier, his huge, throbbing cock intimidating the shit out of you.
"Come on, sweetheart," Mingi said, his low voice sending shivers down your spine. "Lemme feel that pretty little mouth of yours."
Mingi practically shoved his cock down your mouth, your mouth opening so wide that you felt the corners of your mouth crack. You immediately hollowed out your cheeks, making him sharply inhale and groan in pleasure. He couldn't even find the words to tell you how fucking good he felt, but you could tell he was on cloud nine when you looked up at him and saw him gnawing on his bottom lip.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't look at me like that," he groaned. "I don't wanna cum just yet."
You continued to tease him by batting your eyelashes and took him out of your mouth, a long, thick trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He broke the trail when he slapped his cock against your cheeks lightly, a teasing smile on his face as you looked up at him and giggle, only for the smile on your face to be knocked off when Seonghwa caught you off guard and thrust into you, Yunho doing more damage by moving slowly.
"Don't just give Mingi all of your attention, sweetheart," Yunho lectured you. "Hyung and I are still here."
Yunho started moving inside you, his cock making you feel like he was going to pull your insides out. Seonghwa, meanwhile, decided to stagger his thrusts so that he was going in while Yunho pulled out, the level of stimulation going right to your head. You could barely keep focus even when Mingi pulled your head back towards him, his cock yearning to be inside you again.
Below you, you could hear Seonghwa's little whimpers and whines as he fucked you slowly, the sounds of desperation making your cunt, and coincidentally asshole, unconsciously clench, both Yunho and Seonghwa letting out some sort of erotic groan. Yunho, squeezing his eyes shut, did his best to hold off on his orgasm, but Seonghwa lost it at that point. Sliding his hands over your ass, he grabbed your asscheeks and pulled you down as he thrust upwards, a loud exhale leaving his lungs as he emptied his load inside you.
Respect for the eldest frat bro flew out the window the second Mingi and Yunho both realized he had cum. Yunho pulled out quickly— the sheer force nearly making you cum— allowing Mingi to lift you off Seonghwa. He laid down on the bed and effortlessly laid you down on top of him, your back pressing against his chest. Yunho then appeared above you, his soft, deceptive smile letting relief wash over you for a millisecond before you saw his monster cock rest on your stomach.
"I don't know why you look so scared, sweetheart," Yunho chuckled. "You fit both me and Mingi in you before. You can do it again."
He lowered himself to you and kissed you sweetly— so fucking misleading considering what he was about to do to you— while slowly rubbing the length of his cock against your clit. Mingi, taking advantage of Yunho's slow pace, slipped his cock inside you, your head pressing back into the nook of Mingi's neck as you cried out loudly. You could hear Mingi's low chuckle right next to your ear as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up so that your knees were pressing right into your breasts.
Yunho decided to slip his own cock in without warning, making you scream yet again. This time, you weren't able to fling your head back because Yunho grabbed the roots of your hair and held your head up, forcing you to look at him, your body curling towards him.
"That's my good girl," he praised you, the praise washing pleasure through your body once more.
You smiled and bit your lower lip, a shy little giggle leaving you as you looked at Yunho fondly. That giggle in and of itself was enough to make both him and Mingi cum, but they refused to let up just yet. Still holding onto the back of your head but a little more lightly, Yunho hugged your leg to his chest and started rolling his hips into yours, his breathing getting shallower and higher in pitch the longer he thrust into you.
Below you, you could hear profanities pour out of Mingi's mouth in a hushed tone, his grunts slowly turning into tiny whimpers as his hips bucked into yours at varying paces. His hold on you got weaker as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, the boy unable to hold back any longer. Yunho pulled out, allowing Mingi to hug you properly and thrust at a wild speed, stars filling your vision as his massive cock kept hitting your cervix repeatedly. However, Mingi came right at you were hitting your peak, disappointing you slightly when you felt his ropes of cum fill you up.
Since you were so close and desperate, your brought your hand to your clit and were about to rub yourself, when Yunho pulled you off Mingi and laid you down on the bed next to him, his hand pulling your leg over his so he could fill you up with his cock once again.
"You feel good, sweetheart?" he asked you, his voice hoarse. "You wanna cum?"
"Yes— Mmm— I do," you responded weakly.
"Alright, sweetheart. I'll make you cum."
Flipping you around so that you were no longer facing him, Yunho pulled your leg back to open you up again and re-entered you before snaking his hand around your waist, his delicate fingers brushing against your clit before rubbing fast, vigorous circles over it. His thrusts got more powerful and sharper, and he rubbed your clit just right at the same moment his cock hit your cervix, making you cum. Yunho, however, was still inside you, so you were squirting with every thrust, the fluttering of your cunt too much for him to handle. He slammed his waist against yours, his cock spasming inside you briefly before he pulled out, letting you squirt all over the two of you and the bed before re-entering you and completely finishing inside you.
You remained on the bed in a puddle of pleasure and cum as the two tall boys got up and off the bed. The left your room, only to return moments later with water, towels, and new sheets for your bed. The other six frat boys decided to help out until you were revived (for the most part).
"Alright, let's clear out and let her sleep," Hongjoong tried to usher the other members out of the room.
"Hey, no way! You're totally doing this so you can stay back and cuddle with her!" Wooyoung realized before he took a single step.
"That's not true!"
"Then why are your ears turning red?" Seonghwa accused Hongjoong.
"That wasn't— I didn't—"
"Guys, let's settle this a different way since clearly all of us want to be with her tonight," Yunho interjected. "Sweetheart?"
You looked up at the eight boys, your eyes still hazy, your mind still dazed.
"Who do you want to sleep with tonight?"
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tags:
@/k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia
@dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever
@sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty
@startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu @alexwritesfics
@woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious
@isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction
@ninoshome1 @aaa-sia
apply for the permanent taglist here!
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hyunefans · 14 days
Text
sun's out
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in which: you and seonghwa are on a picnic and, well, one thing leads to another.
pair: idol!bf!seonghwa/afab!gf!reader
word count: 1.5k
content: smut, public sex, unprotected sex (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), nicknames (baby),
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: "for my beautiful partner of five years, maya" — @juyofans 2024; and @yunhoszn also requested to be tagged so here you are babes; also, if you're not imagining this fit while you read, you're not imagining right jsyk
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
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Since he had a couple days to spare in between schedules, Seonghwa decided to make up all the lost time with you by taking you out on a picnic. He told you to wear your prettiest outfit and “make yourself look nice for him”— as if he had to tell you, but seeing the words on the screen from him made all sorts of shivers run down your spine. So, you did your makeup and hair all pretty, and you wore the cutest little sundress that you had been saving for a special occasion— a white one with strawberries all over it— and matching strappy heels before taking off.
The second you saw Seonghwa at the location he texted you to meet him at, you nearly foamed at the mouth. He, with his flattering, black tank top, wide cut black jeans, and black cowboy hat, was stunning. He was so stunning, in fact, you feared that if you looked right at him, you would go blind.
“Seonghwa!” you greeted from afar as you broke into a light jog to get to him.
You jumped into Seonghwa’s outstretched arms, the man immediately giggling as he twirled you around.
“Hi, baby,” he sighed into your ear. He set you down and held your hands as his eyes scanned you up and down, the tips of his ears starting to turn red as he said, “Look at you dressed up all nice and pretty for me… You make me so happy, you know that?"
A faint blush rose to your cheeks. Before you could even gather words in your head to respond, Seonghwa kissed your cheek and led you over to a large tree where he had spread out a picnic blanket, glasses, a bottle of wine, and a picnic basket.
The two of you sat down and talked in hushed tones while sipping on the white wine Seonghwa had expertly chose for your little picnic date, the two of you laughing, smiling, and enjoying the company. It had been so long since the two of you were able to experience a normal date instead of having to sneak over to the ATEEZ dorm or him over to your apartment— it was truly refreshing.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” you suddenly said, slightly startling the man. “I brought something for us.”
You went on all fours and reached for your bag— you had put it on one of the corners of the picnic blanket to keep it down— and started rummaging through it. You wanted to take polaroid pictures with your boyfriend, and you specifically set it aside to bring it for your date, but it seemed like you left it at home because it was nowhere inside your bag. You cursed under your breath and continued to rifle through your bag as if you would magically produce the camera, but that was obviously not going to happen.
While you struggled, Seonghwa, who was at first interested in what you brought, had shifted his attention elsewhere. You had crossed over in front of him, giving you a nice view of your chest, and his mouth was practically foaming when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra or pasties or anything. Fuck, he was rock hard, and he needed to do something about it fast.
You sat up and were about to complain to him about the fact that you left the polaroid at home when you took a look at his dazed face, confusing you slightly.
“Hwa? What’s wrong?”
“C’mere, baby,” he uttered, his hands patting his lap. “Sit.”
You shifted towards him, your legs on either side and straddling him before you lowered yourself slowly onto his lap, your clothed cunt immediately pressing against his stiff crotch— and that’s when you realized the situation. Your body started warming up when Seonghwa placed his hands on your thighs, his fingers slowly slipping the dress upwards, his hands beginning to pet your thighs.
“Hwa,” you breathed out as you tried to push his hands away. “Not here—”
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, baby?” he purred, his nose brushing against your ear. “There’s no way I can wait. I need you right now.”
His hands slid up the bottom of your dress and cupped your asscheeks before clenching tightly, your hands flying to his shoulders to support yourself as you suppressed every single raunchy noise that threatened to leave your lips. You heard him inhale through his teeth before he bit his lip and gazed at you on his lap with hungry eyes.
“Baby, bite down on this for me,” Seonghwa asked softly as he held up the front of your dress by the hem up to your lips.
You did as he asked, giving you the nicest view of your bare breasts, waistline, and tiny thong which was practically useless as it revealed practically everything. Seonghwa ran his tongue over his lower lip as he stared at your body, his hands quickly working on his belt and pants, his cock springing up the second he pushed his underwear down. Before you could formally protest further, he pushed your barely-there-panties aside and slipped his cock in to your soaking wet pussy.
“Wow, look at that,” he whispered teasingly as he felt you tense up around him. “You want this just as much as I do, baby. You’re so fucking wet.”
Seonghwa’s first swear word of the day made tingles run down your spine. It was true— you desperately wanted him ever since you saw him in the distance with that outfit on and the cowboy hat on his head, but it was the fact that he was going to fuck you in public that scared you.
“Don’t worry, baby. This is private property, and even if people show up, they’ll just think we’re being lovey-dovey as long as you stay quiet…” Seonghwa whispered as he read your mind (God, you loved that he knew you so fucking well). “Unless you want everyone to hear you being fucked like a whore.”
Another wave of tingles surfed over your body, making you grip his shoulders even tighter. Blinking through the blurriness of your eyes, you locked eyes with Seonghwa and saw his flushed cheeks and red ears. Your lips got dangerously close to his, only for him to tease you by briefly brushing his lower lip against yours.
“Baby, open up,” he breathed out.
Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and instead of Seonghwa kissing you, he grabbed a strawberry from the picnic basket and stuck it in between your teeth. Not going to lie, you were confused as hell first, but when you sunk your teeth into the strawberries, you couldn’t help but want more. And so, with his cock deep inside you, you continued to sit on his lap like a good girl and be his cockwarmer as he fed you strawberries.
While he was feeding you, he didn’t hold the strawberry properly, making strawberry juice drip down your lips and chin, little pink dots covering your exposed chest. Without a second to lose, Seonghwa ran his tongue over the juice on your chest before licking a slow stripe from the center of your chest over your collarbones and up your neck and chin before kissing you, his lips and tongue making the remnants of the strawberries taste even sweeter.
“Hwa,” you whined into his mouth as he kissed you hungrily, your hips antsy as you gyrated them against his.
“I got you, baby.”
His hands cupped the underside of your ass and started assisting you as he bounced you gently on his lap, the contact of your hips against his making low, quiet noises. His nose brushed against your neck as he dropped his head, his breathing getting shallower as you rode him at a steady pace, his hips bucking upwards occasionally.
But that wasn’t enough for neither him nor you. You nearly yelped as he leaned forward, knelt, and sat on his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist. His hat fell backwards when you ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at his roots, bringing his head up to look at you. You pressed your lips against his and hugged him tightly as he moved your body with his own sheer strength, his cock somehow going further and further inside you.
“Fuck, baby,” Seonghwa hissed as he broke off the kiss and hugged you to him. “I’m cumming!”
With that, Seonghwa gave you one final thrust before his cock throbbed inside you, his cum spurting inside you and filling you up. His cock remained inside you as the two of you fought to regain your breath, the stars in your eyes immediately clearing— you were so close, but not quite there, filling you with disappointment.
Your gentleman boyfriend, though, knew that you needed just a little more. He smiled gently at you and left a little kiss on the tip of your nose before saying, “Tell you what, baby. If you can keep my load inside you ’til we get back to the house, I’ll eat you out and fuck you until you can’t walk, okay?”
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tags:
@k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia
@dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever
@sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty
@startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu @alexwritesfics
@woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious
@isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction
@ninoshome1 apply for the permanent taglist here!
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hyunefans · 16 days
Text
pretty like wave to earth songs
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word count: 1k
pretty like masterlist
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How could my day be bad when I’m with you?
A fairytale romance was not something you ever had in your list of wants or desires, but your boyfriend delivered that kind of romance to you without you even dreaming of it.
Actually, you didn’t believe in love before Jinsik. You thought everything was a lie when it came to love because not once in your entire life did you ever see a successful love story. You thought that falling in love at first sight was impossible, that happily ever after was a hoax, that no one was ever truly happy.
Then, Jinsik taught you what real love felt like.
The first time you met him was by complete accident. You were just sitting at your local cafe sipping on your drink and staring out the window. In fact, you had managed to snag the last table at the shop— it wasn’t usually packed, but it was filled to the brim that day. Jinsik, who was the “unlucky” soul behind you (he considered himself to be very lucky that day), needed a table, and instead of retreat like he usually did, he took one glance at you and knew that he just needed one second, one moment with you. So, he mustered the courage to ask you if the seat across from you was taken.
Luckily for him, it wasn’t, and not only did he get to spend one moment with you, but he got to spend many, many, more with you after that.
And you were nothing but grateful for that.
The second time the two of you met was in the park near your place. You were sitting under a tree enjoying the breeze and the blue sky, the fluffy clouds in the air barely creating shade, letting you enjoy the sunlight. Your eyes were closed, but the second you felt a presence near you, you opened your eyes, and there he was with that same shy smile on his face. And, of course, when he asked if he could join you, you said yes.
The relationship just developed from there. He would send you lovely “good morning” and “good night” texts, which you thought you would hate because you always found that to be kind of cheesy and over the top, but anything, anything, Jinsik did, you found endearing. He was the literal epitome of pure love, and you were completely there for it.
Also, you never thought living with a significant other was written in the cards for you ever. You thought that you would just get married, then live with the person you married. Yet, Jinsik surprised you, and he gave you the confidence to move in with a significant other before even getting engaged. Granted, you knew that he was the one for you, that you would never be with another person in your entire life ever again, but it still scared you completely thinking about moving in with someone, but with Jinsik, you were nothing but comfortable.
“Good morning, my love,” Jinsik whispered, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugged you from behind.
“Hi, baby,” you whispered back, snuggling into his embrace.
It was snowing that morning, little flecks of white dancing from the sky and collecting on the ground. You were in front of the window watching the scene, and Jinsik, with his head on your shoulder, watched along with you. You felt Jinsik’s warm breath on your neck, his fingertips pressing lightly into your waistline. You slid your own hands down to lance your fingers with his, who hummed in response. You continued to focus on the snow falling as you got more comfortable in your boyfriend’s arms.
“It’s the first snow,” he commented.
“It is.”
Unlacing his fingers from yours, Jinsik turned you around so he could look at you, his gentle eyes running over your facial features. He tucked his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly, making a light shade of pink wash over your face. Jinsik let out a soft sigh mixed with a hum and smiled at you, his angelic smile making your heart beat ever so slightly faster.
“Say something,” he whispered so quietly that if you weren’t paying attention to him and him only, you would’ve missed it.
“I love you.”
The words barely left your lips before Jinsik pulled you closer into his embrace, his hand going from under your chin to cupping your cheek, his other hand resting on the small of your back. His eyes darted back and forth as he took in your facial expression one tiny little detail at a time as if he were observing a piece of art— well, you were a piece of art to him, and the most beautiful creation God had ever bestowed upon this planet.
Pulling you in slowly, you eyes fluttered closed as you waited in anticipation. You brought your hands to his neck and hair, your fingers tangling with his messy, morning hair. You could feel him smile against your skin as he left gentle kisses along your temples, eyelids, and cheeks, his lips slowly making their way to your jawline and the corners of your mouth. His lips, when they finally met yours, touched them hesitantly at first before he kissed you sweetly, his fingers brushing against your ear and making you shiver slightly as he did so. Jinsik’s teeth lightly grazed your lower lip, but just barely, just to tease you. When he pulled away, your eyes opened slowly, a little sigh playing on your lips.
“Oh, Jinsik…” you murmured, unable to find any other words to express how you felt for him in that moment.
“I love you, too,” he responded, reciprocating your earlier sentiment. 
You couldn’t help but blush. You were the one to say it first not just that day, but also in the grand scheme of your relationship, and you knew that he was going to say it back every single time, but it still took you by surprise every single time because, God, you were so in love with him.
"You're so... God, Jinsik," you said shyly as you buried your face in his chest.
Jinsik let out a little chuckle, the sound music to your ears. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him as he kissed the top of your head.
“I’m so in love with you, you have no idea, my love.”
So how can my day be bad?
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pretty like masterlist
pretty like tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols @cake1box @hunchan444
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hyunefans · 17 days
Text
sweetheart
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in which: you're the atz frat's newest sweetheart, but first, you gotta go through with the initiation.
pair: frat bros!ateez/afab!reader
word count: 4.2k
content: smut, gang bang, nicknames (they call you sweetheart), (some) drinking, mouth to mouth (you'll understand when you read it), unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL), oral, anal, double/triple penetration, creampies, slight breeding kink, filthy, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: written for the @cultofdionysusnet permevent and for the @atzhouse frat event <3 it seriously was a happy coincidence how this one fic lined up for both events i kid you not
networks: @/atzhouse @cromernet @/cultofdionysusnet @san-network @wonderlandnet
taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics @dinossaurz @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @minkilicious @isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @sanhwajjong @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @bsehindu @woomyteez @sanglix @khjoongie98 my tags have been acting kind of weird lately, so if you didn't get the notif, lmk! apply for the permanent taglist here!
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Here’s the thing: you were pretty much already labeled as the ATZ frat sweetheart— and, yes, frat sweethearts are still a thing, and you know that for a fact because you definitely were theirs— since you were the sole being keeping the frat from falling apart. Granted, Hongjoong and Seonghwa put in the work when they had to, but they were so close to the brink of collapse since someone (Wooyoung) submitted the wrong receipts and nearly got the frat shut down by the university due to lack of proper funding use… It was a whole thing.
After you stepped in, though, the frat flourished, and the boys owed you a debt of gratitude, and the wanted to show that gratitude by officially swearing you in as their sweetheart.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mingi greeted you with his low, rumbling voice as he sat down next to you on the couch. “How are you?”
“Could be better,” you replied with a small smile. “Seonghwa missed my double stuffed Oreos request on the grocery list again.”
“Oh, I did the groceries this week,” Mingi said with a tinge of guilt. “I had no idea you wrote that.”
“That’s okay, Gi! I’ll just rewrite it on the list and underline the shit out of it next time.”
“Still… I feel bad…” Mingi murmured. He leaned towards you and said, “Let me make it up to you.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
Without a response, Mingi placed his hand gently on your knee, his fingers teasing you by pushing your skirt up slightly. He brushed his nose against your ear as he tucked your hair behind your ear, a small, rough sigh leaving his lips and ticking your skin. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your lips slightly parted in anticipation, your eyes fluttering. Mingi flirted with you all the time, and you jokingly would tell him that you would give him a chance if he was being serious, and you felt nothing but serious energy from him at that moment, so yes, you would give him that chance.
“Hey!”
The sound of San’s voice snapped you and Mingi out of your trance, the two of you giving the boy all of your attention.
“Don’t you remember what Hwa said?” San said with a slight frown. “No touching the sweetheart until tonight.”
“Why? What’s tonight?”
“Your initiation, duh,” Wooyoung, who popped up behind San, said matter-of-factly.
You for sure thought Wooyoung was messing with you because you knew that the boys had scheduled a frat party that night, but when the night arrived, you realized he was dead serious. There was no party. Instead, the living room was decorated with an assortment of beers, wines, and hard liquors, and they were all brand new, which freaked you out even more because you had never seen so many unopened, high quality bottles of liquor in the frat house before.
“Joong,” you started, your tone accusatory. “Do not tell me you used frat funds for this…”
“No, sweetheart. We used our personal money for this,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Come. Have a drink.”
You eyed the boy suspiciously, but you joined him in the living room anyway. The second you sat down, he handed you a glass of your favorite red wine— you never told the boys about your favorite wine, so you wondered how on Earth they figured it out in the first place— and willed you to drink it.
The wine warmed you up instantly, and your entire tense body relaxed almost instantly at the familiarity of the hints of black cherry. You sighed softly and relaxed into the couch cushions, only for that relaxation to quickly leave when you realized the eight pairs of eyes boring into your soul.
“W-What…?”
“Choose,” Seonghwa stated softly.
“What…?”
“Choose one of us to start your initiation,” Jongho explained a little further.
“How am I supposed to choose when I don’t even fucking know what this initiation is?!”
“Alright, fine,” San pushed his way past the boys. “I’ll start it for you, then.”
Without a second to waste, San took the wine glass out of your hand and shove it into Hongjoong’s hands before forcefully grabbing your face and bringing it near his. Your entire body jolted with excitement, but in the same breath, you also wanted to slap San and tell him to knock it off, but the way he was holding you made arousal pool in your panties at an alarming rate.
“Welcome to ATZ,” he started, a smirk playing on his lips. “If you really want to be our sweetheart, you’re going to obey our every order, got it?”
You responded with a mere nod, warmth flushing through your extremities. Your body only god hotter when San reached behind him and gestured for someone to hand him a bottle of whatever liquor, and with one hand still on your face, he took a swig from the bottle before immediately connecting his lips to yours. You could taste the sharp burn of vodka hit your tongue and go down your throat, nearly choking you. Yet, the motion itself was erotic enough for you to let the burn somehow turn into pleasure, the giddy feeling inside you getting stronger.
As San’s kisses got more passionate, lingering traces of vodka mixed with your saliva and started dripping down your chins. He moved entirely so he pinned you against the couch cushions, one of his hands choking you lightly while the other grabbed your wrist. You were so sucked into San’s kisses that you didn’t realize that someone had moved to the other side of you and started pulling your skirt down.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” you heard Seonghwa purr into your ear.
Along with your skirt went your panties, leaving your bottom half stark naked. Seonghwa pulled one of your thighs one way while someone else pushed your other thigh the other way. It was when San broke your chain of kisses to start decorating your neck with dark marks did you see Mingi kneeling before you, his tongue dangerously close to your inner thigh. You let out a whimpering sigh when you felt him trail his tongue along your thigh and closer to your cunt, the sigh turning into a slight moan when Seonghwa’s fingers reached for your clit and started drawing circles around it with the pad of his finger.
“I never knew you could make a sound like that, sweetheart,” Hongjoong chuckled as he downed whatever was left of the wine in your glass.
Tilting your head towards him with the tips of his fingers, Hongjoong’s lips met yours softly, leaving you with the sweetest kiss. You cupped his face with one hand while your other reached down to Mingi’s head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging backwards while trying to get him to stop licking stripes up and down your pussy. San, meanwhile, lifted your shirt and bra up to reveal your breasts, his lips and Seonghwa’s lips immediately claiming one perky nipple each.
As the four of them ravished you, the other four started feasting away on the alcohol— you can’t expect to leave bottles of alcohol in front of frat bros and expect them not to drink it, now can you?— the beer bottles clattering to the ground and the shot glasses slamming onto the countertop.
All the four men were simply just caressing you, kissing you, but your brain was turning to mush at an alarming rate. You were so out of it that you didn’t even realize that they had gotten all of your clothes off you entirely, leaving all of your skin exposed and ready for the other four to start with you. Yunho had opted to kneel on the ground next to Mingi and caress your legs, his soft fingers trailing across your thigh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Yeosang stood behind the couch and collected your hair for you to hold it back, allowing him to leave kisses along your temple and trail his tongue along your ear. Wooyoung chose to forcibly get your hand out of Mingi’s hair and move it to his crotch so you could cup his slowly stiffening cock through his pants, and Jongho snuck his way onto the couch so he could grope your waist and leave bite marks along the gentle curve of your hip.
“Mingi,” Seonghwa said as he started pushing the boy’s head away from your pussy. “We need to open her up.”
Nodding, Mingi moved away from you, giving Seonghwa the opportunity to slide down and sit between your legs. The other boys started leaving your side one by one as Seonghwa cupped the underside of your thigh and pushed your legs up, your knees pressing against your breasts. Then, you felt his tongue prod into your asshole, making you nearly jump off the couch had it not been for his insane grip on your thighs and Yeosang still holding your hair back.
“H-Hwa, don’t!” you cried. “It’s dirty!”
“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you forgot what I said already,” San tsked.
"Of course I didn't, Sannie, but—"
“No buts,” Yunho, now shirtless, stood before you. “Just go with the flow, sweetheart.”
Gulping, you nodded, allowing Seonghwa to resume. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his tongue prodding once more, your cunt and ass tightening in the process.
"No, sweetheart. You need to relax," Seonghwa murmured.
But you could do anything but relax. So, Yunho decided to help you out. He directed your attention to him and kissed you sweetly, his talented lips clearing out your mind. The way his hand traced the outline of your body as it went up to rest on your neck made your body lean towards him, an erotic sigh leaving your soul as he kissed you more and more passionately with every passing second. Yunho kissing you was enough to distract and relax your body, allowing Seonghwa to open you up as he wanted. He stuck two fingers in your asshole and pulled them apart, making you whine loudly into Yunho’s mouth.
As the two worked on you, the rest of the frat took the opportunity to strip themselves down, low grunts and moans rippling through them as they started stroking themselves. Once Seonghwa deemed you stretched out enough, he got up and shed his own clothes while Yunho choked you lightly as he moved you down from the couch so that you were kneeling before the eight of them.
“Alright, sweetheart. Suck,” San ordered as he slapped his thick cock against your cheek.
You looked up at him with half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, a smile playing on your lips as your hand reached for his cock. You only took the tip into your mouth, your hand rubbing the length as you moaned with his cock in your mouth. All you did was suck the tip of his cock, taking it in and out of your mouth with a little pop, making the boy groan in slight frustration. When Jongho stole your hand from San’s cock so you could start jacking him off, and when Yeosang took your other hand to do the same, San grabbed the back of your head and forced you down on his cock, making you gag loudly. He moved your head forcefully, continuing to make you gag as you sucked him off properly, the sound reverberating through the room.
“God, she sounds like such a fucking slut,” Mingi commented as he smirked at the sight of you on your knees sucking the thick boy off.
“Hey, show some respect,” Hongjoong snapped. “She’s our sweetheart.”
“Our slutty sweetheart,” Wooyoung couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as he bent down to give your ass a tight slap.
You couldn’t help but moan, your body jolting towards San when you felt Wooyoung’s hand go from slapping your ass to grabbing it and pulling upwards. San finally let you surface for air, only for Yunho to interject, his hand guiding your face to his massive cock.
“Don’t just focus on San, sweetheart. We all want to stuff our cocks in your face,” Yunho said, his soft voice very misleading considering the words that just left his mouth.
And so, all eight of the frat bros took their turns stuffing their cocks in your mouth. While you were choking on Mingi’s insane length, Hongjoong moved behind you, pushing you forward so that you were on your hands and knees. He licked his hand and ran his fingers along the folds of your sopping cunt, his fingers teasing you by slipping inside briefly.
"You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. You want us that bad, do you?"
You couldn't respond properly— you still had a mouthful of Mingi in you. Luckily, Hongjoong's didn't bother waiting for a reply from you. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds slowly before entering you at that same pace, the feeling of his cock filling you up making your entire body tingle. He watched as you curled your toes, making him chuckle slightly.
"You like my cock inside you, sweetheart? Of course you do," he sighed out. "You're so fucking tight... You feel so good, sweetheart."
He moved at a gentle pace, but each motion was enough to make you feel good already— you just needed a little boost. You brought your hand to your clit and started rubbing, only for someone to snatch your hand away.
“Nuh uh, sweetheart. That’s our job,” Wooyoung quickly denied you.
Sliding into the space underneath you, Yeosang was the next of them to press his tongue against your sore bud, the wetness from his tongue and the way he swirled it around your clit getting you to satisfaction much faster than your fingers ever could. You took Mingi out of your mouth to cry out loudly as you came, your walls fluttering around Hongjoong’s cock as your arousal dripped out of your stuffed cunt.
You clenched so hard around Hongjoong’s dick that he ended up coming without warning as well. He rammed his hips into yours and came inside, his cum heating you up as he filled you up.
“Hey, you said we wouldn’t cum inside,” Seonghwa pointed an accusatory finger at the oldest boy.
“N-No, I want you to fill me up,” you caught yourself whimpering. “I want you all to fill me with your cum.”
“Well, you heard her,” Hongjoong said slyly. “And who are we to say no to our sweetheart?”
You telling the boys that you wanted them to cum inside you excited them more than you anticipated. Within seconds, you were seated on Jongho’s lap, his girth spreading your walls so far that you thought you were going to tear while Wooyoung stood before you, his knee pressed into the couch as he rubbed you from the front with his cock.
“Woo— Hnngh! It’s n-not going to fit,” you said while moaning as Jongho thrust from underneath you.
“Oh, trust me, sweetheart. You’re going to fit us both.”
With that, Wooyoung slid his cock into you, a scream of pleasure leaving your lungs as you flung your head back and closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel both of them inside you. You thought there would hardly be any space for either of them to start moving, but Jongho proved you wrong when he held your waist tightly and started moving your body up and down while Wooyoung rolled his waist against yours. You could hear Jongho’s desperate grunts in your ear and Wooyoung’s erratic breathing against your skin as he pressed his face into the nook of your neck.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Jongho bit out. “You feel so fucking good, I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”
Responses evaded you. Instead, you turned your head to kiss Jongho, your fingers pressing into his scalp as you held the back of his head. You briefly made eye contact with him, the dark lust in his eyes sending a wave of heat through your body, the heat only increasing when he kissed you, his tongue inviting yours to dance. Your other hand went to Wooyoung’s neck, your nails digging into his skin and leaving deep crescents as you kissed Jongho passionately.
Wooyoung thrust into you in a way that made your body lean into Jongho’s firm chest further, the slightly altered angle of your body doing it for the boy underneath you. He grunted against your lips as he came, his ropes of cum shooting deep inside you. The second the other guys realized he came, they grabbed for you, pulling you off his lap. Soon, you were pinning Wooyoung to the couch, his cock still inside you.
“Hyung, come here,” Yeosang said to Seonghwa.
Getting on top of you, Yeosang slid his cock along your ass, the tip teasing your asshole every so often as Seonghwa knelt on the couch behind you.
“Forget about double stuffed, sweetheart,” Seonghwa quipped. “You’re going to get triple stuffed tonight.”
Without giving you time to ponder the implications of those words, Yeosang forced his cock into your tight asshole while Seonghwa slipped his cock into your pussy, the three of them fully inside you.
“Oh my God!” you cried as they pressed further until they were all completely inside you.
“Shit, her asshole is still really fucking tight,” Yeosang swore, the profanities leaving his mouth making your entire body thirst for him.
Your eyes watered up when Yeosang began to move, your hole tight and red as it swallowed him, the sight of which nearly drove Yeosang up the wall. He mercilessly fucked your ass, not wanting that tight feeling to leave as you squeezed his cock just right. You wanted to cry, nay, scream his name, but before long, San was standing in front of you, forcing his cock down your throat again.
“Good, sweetheart,” he praised as you gawked obnoxiously. “Very fucking good.”
Below you, Wooyoung’s pants were getting breathier, high moans and groans leaving his lungs. He bit his lower lip as he tried desperately to hold his orgasm at bay as he did not want the other guys stealing you from him just yet. But, he was finding it a little difficult to move at the pace he wanted with Seonghwa’s cock stuffed in your cunt. Thankfully, when Seonghwa pulled out, it allowed Wooyoung to ram his hips upwards, the slapping of his waist against yours overpowering your moans.
Seonghwa had decided he wanted to move to your asshole, so while you were distracted by Wooyoung’s insane hip thrusts, Seonghwa shoved his cock into your asshole, practically making you feel like Yeosang and Seonghwa were going to tear you a new one. San had to pull his cock out of your mouth before you bit down on it, making him opt to repeatedly shove his cock in your mouth over and over again instead of having you continuously suck it.
Wooyoung couldn’t hold back anymore. The erotic noises of your cunt and ass and you sucking San off did it for him. He groaned loudly and blinked stars out of his eyes as he came, filling you with your third load.
“Woo, pull out,” Seonghwa ordered. “I’m close, too.”
You were surprised to hear Seonghwa say that— he sounded way too calm and collected to be close. But, when all three boys pulled out, you turned to see that Seonghwa’s jaw was slightly dropped, and his eyes were fluttering when he re-entered your cunt. Despite three loads of cum inside you, you were still insanely tight for him, and him being in your ass just moments prior squeezing and nearly snapping his dick off was already plenty tight. Yeosang, who had resumed with your asshole, snapped you back to attention when he slapped your ass, your back arching as a result.
Seonghwa had barely entered you, and he was done. You pressed your chest against Wooyoung’s and pushed your ass upwards, and as a result, Seonghwa came hard. He grabbed your ass cheeks and let out a low, shuddering groan as he came, disappointment evident on his face— he wanted to fuck you more. What a shame. The second Seonghwa pulled out and moved away, Yeosang switched to your cunt and immediately came. He had been holding his load for quite some time, and he wanted to fill your cunt, not your ass, with his seed.
The five of them swam inside you threatening to spill out when you relaxed your pussy just enough, but you clenched and held it in. You wanted to keep them inside you for as long as humanly possible.
San determined that it was his turn after you were left panting for dear life on the couch. He nimbly picked you up and laid you so that you were bent slightly uncomfortably, your head and shoulders pressing into the ground while your ass rested against the edge of the couch. San stood over you, his thick cock twitching in anticipation as he prepared to drill into you. As he adjusted his position, Yunho and Mingi knelt by your side, their cocks slipping into your open palms, and Wooyoung bent over so that his face was above yours but upside down— he had every intention to Spiderman-kiss you.
Before you realized it, San’s cock was inside you and throbbing while staying still, a long moan leaving him. Wooyoung didn’t give you the chance to moan. He kissed you roughly, his lips tugging upwards on your lower lip. You were a little too focused on Wooyoung to the point where Yunho and Mingi had to forcefully move their own cocks in your loose grip— not that they really minded, though, because they were waiting their turn to fuck your cunt.
To say San’s cock was literally drilling into you would be an understatement. He was annihilating your pussy and back with the amount of force he was using to thrust. He had a tight grip on your waist as he rammed his waist into yours repeatedly, your entire body shifting with every rut.
“S-Sannie! I’m c-cumming!” you cried as you broke off your kisses with Wooyoung.
“Fuck, sweetheart, me— Oh, God!”
San didn’t get to finish his sentence— he just finished. He pressed a good majority of his body weight onto you as he shoved his cock so far deep inside you that it hit your cervix, making your entire body shudder as you came; and the second San pulled out, Yunho and Mingi were on you like vultures. Mingi grabbed you and hoisted you in the air quickly, your legs dangling as he kept his arms secure behind the backs of your knees.
“Oh my God, Mingi, do not fucking drop me,” you yelped as you clung to him.
“Relax, sweetheart. I have no intention of letting you go,” his deep chuckle reverberated in your ear.
Without using his hands to help him, Mingi was able to successfully sink you down on his cock, making you cry loudly as you felt his length slide inside you quickly. Before he could even start moving you, Yunho pressed his chest against your back, his own cock making its way inside your cunt as well, earning yet another cry from you.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted as the two men with the longest lengths fucked you midair, the two of them moving you so that you were bouncing on their insane cocks.
You could barely keep your head on straight with them fucking you like that, but with the addition of their low grunts and groans in your ear, you were losing your mind completely. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you leaned backwards into Yunho, your grip on Mingi loosening like your grip on reality.
“Look at you all fucked out by our cocks, sweetheart,” Yunho teased.
“You really like double stuffed that much, huh?” Mingi added to the teasing.
You wanted oh so badly to tell them to shut up, but you could only scream their names as you felt your climax rapidly approach. You brought your head back to face Mingi’s, your lips immediately searching for his as you did your best to hold off on cumming. But, when Mingi pulled you towards him to meet your desperate kisses, he rubbed against your G-spot, making you cum instantly. Your cunt clenched so tightly that both boys subsequently came, their loud groans echoing in the living room as their cum spurt deep inside you, leaving you with the cum of the eight of them threatening to spill out of you had it not been for the two massive cocks blocking its path.
Mingi let you down onto the ground, the cum flowing out of you, leaving you sitting in a pool of their cum as you fought to regain your breath and sanity. Blinking stars and tears out of your eyes, you looked up to see all eight of them hovering above you while stroking their cocks.
“So, sweetheart,” Hongjoong spoke. “Welcome to ATZ.”
You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed— was that really it?
“Do you want more, sweetheart?” Seonghwa chuckled looking at your expression.
Biting your lower lip, you looked up at him and nodded, all eight boys’ breath hitching.
“Believe me, sweetheart. We’re not done fucking you yet.”
2K notes · View notes
hyunefans · 18 days
Text
steamed milk
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pairing choi san x f!reader word count 2.5k genres fluff﹒smut warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, not proofread, all lowercase bc i wrote this at 2 am… a week ago <3, barista!reader, barista!san, clumsy reader, mentions of burn scars?, mutual pining, little bit of power imbalance but it doesn’t play into the plot, escalates pretty fast, public sex, unprotected sex, cute fluffy moment at the end, may we get f’s in the chat for kim hongjoong’s desk chair
summary a closing shift with san is… interesting… to say the least.
more alright alright alright, i know i have a billion wips and a billion reqs to work on,,, but @bro-atz needed something to read on a flight and i needed an excuse to write with no plot in mind, solely based on vibes and this is what came out of it… i ALSO KNOW i’ve been withholding for a week but that’s bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep this locked in the dungeon for a rainy day or not, until i remembered i should post something in honor of chellateez 🥳
@atzhouse @san-network
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“did you burn yourself on the steam wand again, y/n?”
you bite your lip and turn away from hongjoong bashfully. so what if you’re a little clumsy, it’s not like you completely sucked at your job. maybe there were a few milk spills here and there. at least you knew what you were doing most of the time. 
“um, what would you do if i said no?” you scratch the back of your neck with the hand that wasn’t burned. hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his rolling chair. as the manager of a coffee shop, he did not get paid enough to babysit and coddle his employees like he usually did. 
between you almost always making a mess and then yunho and mingi goofing around whenever they were on shift together, he felt like he was starting to grow grey hairs. he shakes his head with a tsk, pulling out the first aid kit from one of the drawers in his desk. “let’s put some burn cream and a bandaid on it so you can hop back out. the dessert rush is about to begin.”
you nod and rock on the balls of your feet as you wait patiently. your manager dresses your burn and sends you on your way. the dessert rush, aside from the morning rush, was arguably the worst part of the day. shifts at the coffee shop were divided into thirds— open to mid, mid to evening, evening to close. while opens were the most busy, you at least got out early and could enjoy the rest of your day. mids were the slowest, but they took place midday so you couldn’t do much after you clocked off. 
closes were the worst, because they were so unpredictable. you weren’t ever sure if it was going to be busy, apart from the usual dessert rush, and that uncertainty bothered you. the beginning of your closing shift was staffed pretty well. there was yeosang, who was probably the best barista out of the lot of you, and seonghwa, a seasoned veteran in this game. he was your assistant manager. 
however, yeosang and seonghwa were off at 6 PM and the shop closed at 9 PM, leaving you and your lead for the night to close all by yourselves. and your lead? choi san. 
closing with san wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for your massive crush on him. out of the other leads, san was the kindest. he didn’t lose his cool if your clumsy nature got the best of you during a hectic shift. in fact, he took his time to ensure everything was okay. he didn’t care if there were angry customers demanding that their drinks be made. his baristas were his number one priority. 
and well, with his appearance today, it would be more difficult than usual. donned in a white button up and some black slacks, his brown apron over, you think you’re going to faint. on a regular basis, san wore simple things like the occasional sweater or t-shirts and jeans, but this new look was making you all sorts of dizzy. you felt inferior beside him. (though technically, you were.)
with hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang leaving all at the same time, you were in a crisis. how were you supposed to survive this shift? it’s like the universe meticulously crafted this moment so it could laugh at you. and it all started with you burning yourself on that goddamn steam wand, while you were on bar with san of all people. 
“are you sure you don’t want me to send you home?” san asks lowly, making sure only you heard him. the two of you were finishing an order when he asked the question. 
“i couldn’t let you close by yourself.” you pout. as hard as it’s going to be working with him alone for three hours, you’d feel awful leaving him to fend for himself. 
“i can ask yeo or hwa to stay,” he shrugs, putting a lid on the iced vanilla latte in front of you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
“i’ll be fine, san,” you reassure. “besides, seonghwa would probably kill me if i was the reason he had to stay later than he had to.”
san laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in the cute way they do when he smiles. your heart rate spikes and you have to take a deep breath to compose yourself. he nods as he turns to hand out the order. 
“if you insist.”
maybe you should’ve taken him up on that offer to go home. 
you’re too distracted by the way his rolled up sleeves strain against his muscular arms, staring a little too much. hongjoong just so happens to walk out of the back at that exact moment. he thinks your (very obvious) crush on san is funny, but not when the line is wrapped and you’re about to be down two men. 
“y/n, there’s five drinks waiting to be made,” he calls out, tapping on seonghwa and yeosang’s shoulders to let them know they can go. “what’s more important that has you standing there doing nothing?”
“sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, avoiding his gaze as you start on the next order; a dry cappuccino with cinnamon. great. another drink that required you using that godforsaken steam wand. a truly evil contraption. 
“i can be milk if you’d like?” san suggests suddenly, noticing your hesitation to steam the 2%. 
“if it’s not too much of an ask,” you frown. “i just don’t want to hold us back in the middle of a rush.”
“you don’t need to explain yourself to me, y/n,” he quickly swaps places with you. “i think you’re pretty damn good with a portafilter anyway.”
it’s a stupid compliment. only another barista would even know what that meant, but you take it to heart. your body flushes with warmth as you tamp the espresso grounds and pull a shot viable enough to use for the cappuccino. you’re a little shaky as you pour it into the paper cup and wait for san to pour the milk. 
this was the closest you’d get to flirting with san, and it was him telling you that you were actually good at your job. what a sad life you lived. 
thankfully, you manage to bulldoze through the line with just the two of you. in times like these, your solution is to go nonverbal and lock in. if you talk while you’re making drinks, you get distracted too easily and you find it’s harder to multitask. after the rush, things are slow for the most part and then it’s just you, san, and the sound of cafe music playing quietly over the speakers at 9 PM. 
“y/n, can i ask you a question?” san inquires, counting the till as you wipe down the espresso machine and the bar around it. 
“what’s up?” you hum, refolding your rag. he shuts the register and walks over to you, leaning on the bar adjacent to the one you were at. 
“i’m curious, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but i’ve heard that you like me. is that true?” it comes out so politely, you’re not even sure you heard him correctly. you blink as the words process in your brain. this was the end. now you really wished you went home early. 
“well— um— i don’t know how to answer that…” you fiddle with your fingers, looking everywhere but at san. 
“all i want is a yes or no, because truth is,” he walks closer and closer until he’s directly in front of you. “i have a little crush on you myself.”
“you what?!” you don’t mean to sound so shocked, so appalled even, because he takes a step back, eyes widened by your outburst. you’re just so confused. choi san liked you? like, liked you?
“i’ll take that as a—“
“no!” you stand upright, grabbing his wrist. when you realize what you’ve done, you immediately let go. “i mean, no, as in yes. i do like you, san. i was just… embarrassed… that you found out from elsewhere instead of me. and i’m a little in disbelief that you feel the same.”
“why’s that?” his head tilts to the side a bit. “what’s not to like about you?”
“for starters, i’m the biggest klutz on the planet.” you huff, but that makes his smile grow wider. 
“i think that’s your charming point,” he admits, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “while i don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, like when you burned yourself earlier, i do think it’s kinda cute when you accidentally knock over a drink.”
“are you okay in the head? were you dropped on it as a baby?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. he laughs, this time a full on laugh that has him bringing a fist up to his mouth. you think you just shed a tear. and not from your eyes. 
“i don’t believe so. i guess i’m just attracted to people who aren’t afraid of being themselves,” he shrugs, reaching out to take your hand into his. “and you check all the boxes.”
remember the whole fainting thing? that’s about to come true. you manifested it. 
san brings your knuckles up to his lips, first kissing over the bandaid where your burn was and then all over the back of your hand. you stand there like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing but no words escaping you. was the universe… rewarding you somehow?
“how often does joong check the cameras?” you gasp when his kisses have moved from your hand to your neck. he doesn’t break contact, speaking into your skin as he unties your apron. 
“almost never, but you have a point.”
this is how you end up on san’s lap in hongjoong’s office chair, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, lips locked like no tomorrow. he was a fantastic kisser, which just further proved your theory that he was the perfect human being. along with the subtle flirting, and the obvious knack for respecting boundaries, it’s almost like the universe had hand crafted choi san to be the ideal man. and they say chivalry is dead. pft, san’s existence dispels that notion undoubtedly. 
“he won’t know, right?” you pant, arching into him when he sucks at a particular part on the base of your throat. he hums. 
“you’re worrying too much,” san’s fingers slip under your top, digging into your waist. “i promise, he won’t find out. but we’ve gotta be quick since he’ll know what time we left.”
“m’kay,” you sigh, grinding down on his lap to help speed things along. the undressing process is a blur. you wish you could spend more time admiring his bare chest and arms, especially because you’d been fantasizing about this moment for almost an entire year now. 
“god, you’re so gorgeous, y/n,” he murmurs, reconnecting your lips sweetly. his hands massage the sides of your thighs as you hover over him, preparing to sink down on his cock. “i finally have you all to myself.”
you whine when you do, his words encouraging your arousal. the intrusion has you moaning softly, eyes squeezing shut from the sheer pleasure streaming through your veins. your nails scrape his shoulders and back, toes curling. the tip of his dick grazes that sensitive spot deep in your cunt with ease, as if he was made to be inside of you. 
“feels— fuck— feels so good, san,” you whimper, head falling to the crook of his neck. san chuckles, albeit a little strained. his hands remain in your hips, aiding your movement so you don’t get too tired. 
“is that right, sweetheart?” he says into your ear, nipping the lobe gently. “you’re taking me so well.” 
his praise shoots straight to your core, punching another moan out of you. you really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s inching you towards the edge of that familiar tide so fast. it’s san, and like you’ve stated before, he’s damn near perfect. but holy shit, the way he’s fucking you has you thinking that there is such a thing as heaven. 
you have to bite down on his collarbone to stop yourself from screaming like a fucking pornstar, leaving a myriad of marks on his skin to restrain the ferality threatening to jump out of you. every drag of his cock on your velvety walls drives you just a little more insane each time. 
he’s moving so slow, but so deep all at once, and it’s just the right combination to decorate the backs of your eyelids in stars and colored spots. his ring and middle fingers meet your swollen clit, circling with practiced pressure. the office chair squeaks awfully with each of your bounces on his lap, but you’re too close to pay it any mind. instead, you drown it out with your own noises— warnings of your impending orgasm. 
“gonna cum— my god, san, i’m—!” you don’t even finish your sentence, the tide finally reaching the shore. your orgasm washes over you hard and unlike any other you’ve ever experienced before. you aren’t sure if he’s just that good, or if it’s because it’s san. (most likely a combination of both.) 
san coos, guiding you through the peak of your climax. once you’ve calmed considerably, you slide him out of you and stroke his cock until he’s painting the inside of your thighs with milky white and a groan. his face screws up in pleasure, eyes fluttered shut and brows knit together. his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks and you think you’ve just fallen in love, for real. 
his chest rises and falls as he attempts to catch his breath. you can’t help placing a hand over the left side to feel the rapidity of his heartbeat, smiling to yourself. he mirrors your expression after a moment, leaning up to press a sensual kiss to your lips. 
“as fun as this was, and as much as i like the view right now, it’d be better if i could actually take you out after this… and if i could fuck you somewhere nicer than on our manager’s desk chair.” san bites at the inside of his lip, glancing down at the rolling chair beneath you. 
“i agree,” you giggle, brushing his hair from his face. “hongjoong’s office isn’t the ideal location for a first date or first time sleeping together. but at least we’ll have a fun story to tell our kids.”
san bursts into laughter at that. “our kids, huh? you’ve thought that far ahead?”
“i’ve had a crush on you since i got hired, choi san, what do you think?” you raise an eyebrow, booping his nose with your index finger. he scrunches it up with a grin. 
“i think that i’ve had a crush on you just as long. and if we’re having kids, it’s best to omit some details when we retell this story.” 
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
751 notes · View notes
hyunefans · 18 days
Text
Ride or die
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☆ SECOND ENDING OF TAKE A CHANCE ON ME ☆ (please read that first for it to make sense ^^)
Genre: a bit of action, crack, fluff, strangers to lovers
Word count: 1.2k
Pairing: cowboy!Mingi x gn!reader
Warnings: swear words, mentions of weapons, bullets, someone is being killed (but he's a villain), time skip but they are in love, pet names, broken humour, possible grammar mistakes
Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu
Networks: @cromernet 🤍
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Tiredness seemed to take the best of you, so you did what you thought was best; went home. You didn't want to spend your non-existent energy on some guy you just met and seemed to have beef with right away—and despite Mingi being another unknown face you happened to meet, you couldn't lie, but he kinda had you wrapped around his finger. The little kiss on your cheek had butterflies dancing inside your stomach, and you just wanted to get to know him better, to see the mysterious cowboy again. You let your steps guide you on the well-known path to your house, an exhausted smile stretching your lips as you saw the familiar building. You got inside right away and threw yourself on the couch, falling asleep while thinking about the sharp eyes under his brown hat.
The next morning came almost immediately, the sunset having you in front of the bar you worked at while you inspected the door. Fuck, did I forget to lock the door? Did someone break into this place? You were overwhelmed. When you tried unlocking the door with the keys only you owned, the door opened without any effort. You stepped cautiously inside, grabbing a vase full of flowers from some shelf—you needed to be prepared. You tried to keep as silent as possible, yet a sharp scream left your mouth the moment someone covered your eyes.
"Shhh, doll, it's just me." he whispered in your ear, planting a kiss there as he smiled and you turned to face him.
"You scared the fuck out of me. Why are you here so early? And how did you get here?"
"I'm good with lock picking. And I couldn't let you clean alone, I wanted to surprise you."
"Such a well-mannered assassin, who would have thought?" you said, getting on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek.
He smirked, tucking some hair strands under your ear as he said: "I'm good with people who deserve my kindness."
"What if you used it against them instead? You know, as one would say, kill 'em with kindness."
"That is just overrated, doll." he said, laughter escaping from his lips, making you giggle at how beautiful he sounded.
He sounded pure, and you truly hoped you could get to know him better, to see what was hidden under his crazy assassin persona. You didn't know what had gotten into you, and what made you feel so safe with a criminal; yet, in a world full of cruelty, Mingi begged to differ.
"Should I come pick you up when your shift's over? We can have a nice walk around the city."
"I… would actually love that, Min."
Min. What a silly nickname, yet how happy he felt when it was coming from you.
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The time of freedom has finally come, and Mingi kept his promise; there you were, walking hand in hand, his hat on your head as you admired how the wind messed up his pink hair. You thought it was cute—the way he put some of his accessories on you, turning you into a mini-him, he was truly cute and one day was enough for you to see his true self. You two stopped at a river near the city, surrounded by imposing trees and covered in the darkness of the night.
"I usually come here to clear my mind a bit, it's quite a safe place for me," Mingi spoke, looking at you as you were excitedly admiring the surroundings: "And you're the first person I have ever brought here."
His words finally brought you back to reality, making you look at him as he smiled at you.
"What did you say?" you dared, raising an eyebrow as his lips curled into a playful smirk.
"Nothing, doll." he shrugged, facing the river and taking in the scenery.
You started to walk around, hearing several shifting sounds as you approached some trees. You could swear you saw some silhouettes behind them, but you thought it was just your imagination; yet when you saw a man pointing a gun at Mingi's unguarded back, you decided it was time to take matters into your own hands. Thus, you went next to Mingi, pretending to hug him, your hand slipping close to his gun holster. You took the revolver and pushed Mingi aside, closing your eyes and pulling the trigger—the reverberating sound of the gunfire filled your ears, the only things you heard after were some screams, the outlaws shouting "Let's run" to each other while they disappeared in the darkness.
Mingi was astonished by what had just happened, way too fast for his relaxed state of mind, as this used to be his safe space.
"Did I… did I just kill him?"
"I'm afraid we gotta hide the body now, love."
"I'm… will the police search for me too now?"
"Nah, babes. You're safe with me." he said, his hands finding their way around your waist, holding you close to him. "You saved my life, thank you."
"I guess we're even now, Min."
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Maybe life as an outlaw wasn't as bad as it seemed, especially since you had Mingi by your side. You were on your way to meet his friend, Hongjoong, your body now clothed in a leather outfit, similar to Mingi's.
"Are you nervous?"
"To meet Hongjoong? Pfff, not at all. I might say I'm more scared of meeting his goat friend than him."
Mingi couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, imagining how offended Joong would act at your silly joke. Perhaps that's what made him fall in love with you so easily—yet, when you heard Hongjoong's imposing voice and noticed his intimidating posture, maybe, just maybe, you felt the need to grip Mingi's hand tighter, eyes locking with his sharp ones as he smiled.
"So, that's our new outlaw?’’ Hongjoong said, lowering the bandana around his mouth just enough so you could see his lips moving.
You looked at Mingi and smiled when he squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on it, making you nod to Hongjoong.
"Pretty skilled if you ask me. We met because I saved their life, yet we were brought together by them saving mine." he said proudly.
Hongjoong smiled brightly at you, forgetting about his tough persona for just bit of time, so you could ease yourself a bit. He then smirked at Mingi, happy stars gathered in his eyes for his friend's achievement—finding himself someone who risked it all for their love, his ride or die. Mingi was also one of a kind; he loved showing you off, be it to his friends, missions, or anything. He loved matching his leather coat and hat to yours, leaving the sweet illusion of the perfect couple, cause you two were near one. And even though your relationship might have been a new one, he was ready to see it bloom into something even more beautiful under his eyes.
"I love you, Y/n." he said, bringing your face closer to his and touching your lips with his.
"I love you too, Min." you said, returning the sweet favor.
"Yah, you two, get a room! Disgusting." the eldest said, yet the smile on his face gave him away for the way his heart jolted in happiness for his friend.
Destiny seemed to have many plans for you and you didn't expect this to be part of your future, yet, even if you were villains in other people's stories, what mattered to you was that you two were the heroes of each other's lives, forever tied by a thread, together.
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hyunefans · 18 days
Text
Rider on the storm
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☆ FIRST ENDING OF TAKE A CHANCE ON ME ☆ (please read that first for it to make sense ^^)
Genre: idiots-to-lovers, angst if you really really squint, strangers-to-best-friends-to-lovers, crack, fluff
Word count: 1.8k
Pairing: biker!Seonghwa x gn!reader
Warnings: swear words, pet names, a kiss, my broken humour, possible grammar mistakes
Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu
Networks: @cromernet 🤍
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He seemed nice and you really wanted to learn more about motorcycles, so you decided to wait for him.
"What the heck happened here?"
You flinched as you heard Seonghwa's voice, then you looked at the watch and saw it was a quarter past midnight.
"Uhm… long story… mind helping me?" you said, smiling innocently as he nodded excitedly.
"I love cleaning! Let's clean this mess, flower."
In less than 30 minutes, you managed to make the floor shine with his help—he truly loved cleaning.
"I'm sorry for keeping you here, Seonghwa."
"No problem, flower. I loved your company. Now let me take you on a walk around this beautiful city."
You smiled and followed him to his motorcycle, admiring it one more time.
"Hold tight, flower!" he said, giving you a helmet as he positioned himself, ready to leave.
The ride was peaceful, way too peaceful for your imagination—you thought it would be quite hectic, but you actually ended up admiring the dim lights of the night-covered city… and Seonghwa too. You couldn't help staring at the way the leather jacket was hugging his torso, kind of the same way your hands were doing right now. And his voice, God, his voice when explaining all the necessary things you should have known about his bike; too bad you were lost in the deepness of his voice.
"Seems like we're neighbors!" he exclaimed after parking his bike in front of the flat he was living in, under the shocked look you had on your face.
"But… I haven't seen you before?" you asked in a tiny voice, surprised as how you never met him if he was living here all this time.
His lips let out a low chuckle escape, as he spoke again: "I have recently moved here for… business."
That made sense.
"Thanks for the ride, Seonghwa," you smiled, looking at his face for one last time, "and good night."
"Good night, flower." he smirked and left again.
You wouldn't have ever imagined that the mysterious guy who almost made you pay for his bike would become your best friend. Yeosang, his mate, was nearly done with how attached to the hip you two were—but maybe he knew better than you did. It was a Saturday night, a usual hang-out day for you and Seonghwa; though, you weren't sure if it was that usual anymore. After he called off the sleepover for two weeks straight, you started to think that maybe he lost interest, that he couldn't invent another lie to stay away from you. It hurt a bit because it was a new experience for you, but you wouldn't ask for an explanation, you weren't that desperate for his attention—or so you wanted to believe; because as soon as the doorbell rang, you jumped off your couch and opened the door, revealing the raven haired guy in front of it, with a bag of sweets and drinks.
"You came?" you said, a bit unsure if it was real, or just your imagination.
"I promised you it won't happen again, and I keep my promises." he said, getting inside your welcoming apartment.
You watched as he threw himself on the couch, TV remote in his hand, as he felt like he was in his own house.
"Are you comfy?" you asked sarcastically, making him pout. "Ew, don't ever do that again."
He burst into laughter, nodding at your antics—though deep down, he knew you liked his pout, it wasn't something you saw daily. You plopped on the sofa next to him, his hand naturally going around your shoulders as you prayed the shivers on your spine didn't give you away—you didn't know why his presence had this certain impact on you, but you tried not to care that much.
A few hours later, he was munching on some chips, watching as you were absorbed by the movie, constantly smiling whenever the male lead made his appearance. He raised an eyebrow, his plump lips parting so he could say something.
"What's your type?"
He waited, and waited, and waited; but you didn't seem to hear him. He giggled, waving his hand in front of your face as you flinched, eyes finally on him.
"Earth to Y/n?" laughter straining his voice, making you frown.
"What do you want?" you said, annoyed.
"I asked, what is your type?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Curiosity."
You thought a bit before giving him an answer. "I like guys with tattoos."
He smirked a bit, and you started laughing: "What's wrong?"
"Didn't imagine you were into bad boys."
You rolled your eyes at his remark, looking at him with an "are you serious" face.
"Look who decided to talk, the most innocent guy I've ever met."
He chuckled again, eyes finally darting to the action movie you two were supposed to watch.
The next day, you woke up late—too late for your liking. The containers and packaging of whatever you consumed were beautifully sorted in their place and the table was shining from how clean it was. Him and his love for cleaning, you thought. You wondered where he could have left, but as soon as you opened your phone, you saw a text from him.
"I'll be back soon, just had an impulsive thought."
Now you were curious about what he could have done; you couldn't wait to see what he had in his mind. You wandered around the house for a bit, deciding on some pancakes for breakfast, adorned with maple syrup and some butter on top. Just as you were about to set the table, he showed up behind you, a big smile on his face as he took off his leather jacket.
"Do you like this?" he said, showing you his finger, an ink art laying on the side of it as he smiled proudly.
"Did you do this today? It's so pretty!"
He nodded, looking at the tulip tattoo he would wear from now on. "I made it for the person I like."
"Oh, you like someone? That's so cool!" you exclaimed, clapping as he excitedly talked about it.
"Yeah, and this is their favorite flower." he smirked, expecting quite another reaction from you.
"Tulips are my favorite too, that's so nice!"
He wanted to smack his forehead in the biggest facepalm ever.
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Your birthday was near the corner, and Seonghwa was walking from one place to another, making Yeosang watch with dizzy eyes as the older couldn’t stop moving.
“What should I get them…? I am so confused, Yeo. Do I confess to them? I can’t believe they are so oblivious that they didn’t figure it out yet!”
Yeosang looked at him with an amused face, ready to spit some facts.
“Did they manage to buy the bike?”
“No, they didn’t—they didn’t!” he jumped, voice raising about an octave as he spoke.
Yeosang was happy that his friend finally caught the signal—or so he thought.
“So what if they didn't?” Seonghwa’s confused voice was heard again.
“I swear, you are both fucking idiots. You can buy it for them!”
Seonghwa’s boba eyes lit up as he looked at Yeosang, ready to jump on him in happiness.
“Buy it for them! Yeah, Yeosang, you genius!”
The younger rolled his eyes at his friend's antics, a little smirk stretching the corner of his lips as he felt proud of his idea as well; that was before he was forcefully dragged by his friend to the shop where it all started.
You, on the other side, were behind the drinks stand, in the same place where you met Seonghwa for the first time—despite the supposedly special day. Your face was leaning on your hand as you fell into an abyss of thoughts, wondering if you and Seonghwa had any chance to be something more than best friends. He likes someone else, Y/n, get yourself together, you thought. The door suddenly opened and your eyes darted in its direction, meeting a Yeosang who was waving at you.
“Y/n! Your shift was supposed to be over 10 minutes ago, why are you still here?”
“It was…?” you asked, looking at the watch—he was right. “Haha, I was just in a silly, goofy mood.”
He gave you a side eye, trying his best not to laugh at your weird behavior.
“Can I blindfold you?”
You almost choked.
“Not in that way, oh my god! I just… fuck,” he grabbed his hair, a short laugh giving him away as your shocked face amused the hell out of him; “I just want to take you somewhere, but you don’t have to see.”
Embarrassment took over your face, a light crimson on your face, making you hide behind the stand.
“You don’t have to hide, it’s okay. You’re nervous, it’s fine.” he said while stepping behind you, a silky feeling on half of your face while your vision turned black.
Yeosang helped you walk, warning you before every potential danger in your current state.
“Are we there yet?”
“You’re a bit impatient, don’t you think?”
You sighed as he teased you back, but it soon became a relief when he stopped walking.
“You can take off your blindfold now, my job here is done.” he said and winked at the mysterious presence in front of you, leaving.
You took the cloth off and looked at the leather-cladded guy standing before you, a playful smirk on his face.
“Hello, flower.” he said in the same slow voice you knew, gesturing for you to come closer to him. “Happy birthday.”
You blushed at his words, smiling softly: “Hi, Hwa.”
You noticed him staying on a bike, the same model as his, though something seemed different at it.
“This is your present, flower.” he said, pointing at the bike under him.
You gasped, mouth dropping in shock as you looked at him.
“T-the bike?”
"I can be part of it too, if you’d like.”
“I thought you liked someone?”
“That someone is you, silly. Aren’t tulips your favorite flowers? You said it yourself.” he smirked, watching as realization hit you.
“You… oh… it was me? All this time?”
“All this time, Y/n.”
You went straight to him and hugged him, comfort engulfing you as he wrapped his arms around you.
“It was you all this time too, Hwa.”
He smiled and took your face in his hands, the cold leather gloves making shivers appear down your spine as your lips connected together, melting into a sweet kiss. Your foreheads pressed together while he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a feather-like kiss there as well.
“This is the best birthday ever.”
“Then should we go test your bike like a couple and make it even better?”
Just like the first time, his offer was addicting—you couldn’t say no.
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hyunefans · 18 days
Text
Take a chance on me
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Genre: a bit of action, crack, fluff, strangers-to-lovers
Word count: 1.4k
Pairing: Seonghwa x gn!reader, Mingi x gn!reader
Warnings: mentions of criminals and illegal stuff, a fight takes place in a bar—more of a shooting (highkey inspired by bouncy mv), mentions of a drink, mentions of bullets, guns, mentions of a wound and blood, pet names, possible grammar mistakes
Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu
Networks: @cromernet 🤍
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You sighed as another old man exited the bar you were working at, finally getting a break. The loud screams coming from the group of people playing billiards were almost unbearable for your ears, so you grabbed a coffee and went somewhere behind the building, a beautiful motorcycle catching your attention as it was parked somewhere close to you. You absolutely loved motorcycles, something you took after your dad; so, without a second thought, you approached it, examining the details. It was black and shiny, meaning that its owner was actually taking good care of it. As you wanted to touch it slightly, a deep voice from behind you interrupted your intentions, making you flinch.
"Do you want to steal it?"
His confidence was visible—from the way he acted to the way he was dressed; jewelry and accessories cladding his neck and hands, the leather jacket making him look like your typical biker.
"I—no, no! I just—"
He smirked at your state, getting one step closer to you.
"If I see a single scratch on it, I'll make you pay for it. Do you think you have the money?"
You couldn't stand this guy already, but you tried to understand him—maybe you would have done the same if you had your own.
"I just want to buy one myself, and yours seemed nice so… I'm sorry." you said, looking down as you couldn't think about spending the money you tried so hard to keep for something like this.
His look softened a bit at your words. He might not be known as the best guy around town, yet he couldn't help but remember where he came from and how much help he needed to be able to purchase his precious gem.
"I was joking, flower. Would you like me to take you home? I can explain more on the way." he smiled, words slipping from his mouth as if calling you that was something usual for him, and for the first time that afternoon, you found him cute.
It wasn't that the idea didn't appeal to you—but your shift was nowhere near completed, and you didn't quite want to trust the stranger that fast.
"I work till midnight." you said nonchalantly, drawing the biker in even more.
He pouts playfully, before taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it to you.
"Here, put your number," he encouraged, unlocking it, "I'll be back for you."
You hesitantly took it, typing your number as a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Seonghwa, it's time, let's go." a quite long-haired guy said, signaling with a move of his head that they should leave.
"I'll be back." Seonghwa smiled and took his phone as your steps began to take you inside the bar again.
He was too late when he realized that you didn't get to put your name in his phone, yet he decided to just call you Flower. You watched everything from the window and waved to him when he smiled in your direction before their bikes let out a loud groan, and they were gone.
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It was already dark outside before you were supposed to catch your last break for the day. It was way more peaceful than the other days, which made you wonder if something happened; though you couldn't complain about it, you enjoyed the silence. You were drying some of the glasses you just washed, your eyes darting to the door right when it opened for the nth time that day—and for some reason, it felt different this time. A tall guy with an intimidating, yet mysterious posture stepped inside, leather hat on, thus you couldn't see his face. You noticed him throwing a few balls from the billiard table with his hand, taking your eyes off of him as you feared he was looking for fights. Of course, you could call Seonghwa, but you didn't want to put him in danger—and you didn't even know if he would come.
"Whiskey on the rocks, please." he said in a low, deep voice, head facing the floor.
You turned around, your back facing him, as you wanted to take the bottle—though the poster in front of you grabbed your attention. WANTED was written just above the culprit's face, making you gasp in shock as you turned back to the guy, who was now facing you. You kept looking at the poster, then back at him. He looked at you more intensely, and you looked back at the poster. He was the wanted one. You opened your mouth to say something, but he put a finger on his own lips, signaling you to shut up. You swallowed your words, nodding that he is safe, before gathering the courage to finally say something.
"Dude… they did you dirty with that nose." you said, a chuckle escaping your lips as you compared the man in front of you to the poor drawing behind you.
"I know, right?" he said, laughing a bit too—until he saw your expression changing into a serious one. "Please don't say anything, don't tell them you've seen me!"
"Don't worry. It's not like this bar is not frequented by other criminals and more anyway."
"Thank you! That's such a relief, I'm tired of running away all the time. And I'm Mingi, by the way."
You smiled softly, finally handing him the glass he ordered and telling him your name. The tension could be cut with a knife—there was definitely some sort of attraction between the two of you, yet you both enjoyed the silence of it and the way you could understand each other with just some gestures; well, that was until the door opened, three guys with guns on full display looking at Mingi with a smirk; that didn't look good.
"B-behind you…" you stuttered, trying to alert him somehow, yet all you could see coming from him was the same, dirty smirk that was stretching the mysterious guys' mouths.
"Hold tight, doll."
He said, jumping from his chair and taking a rifle out of its holder. You gasped at the sight, yet a smile from him silenced you. He started to shoot around him, aiming for the guys, bullets flying all over the floor as you covered your ears, not standing the loud sounds.
"Shhh, I'm sorry. Here, stay here." he said, guiding you under the bar with one hand as the other kept on shooting at the enemies who kept getting inside, outnumbering him.
He got up again and got another gun, this time a revolver, his moves fast enough to get rid of the bad guys in a short time. You were still shocked, breath hitching in your throat as he looked like nothing happened, another smile taking over his face.
"So freaking persistent," he sighed, rolling his eyes in annoyance, before his attention went towards you: "Are you okay, doll?" he asked, fingers stroking your hair softly.
You nodded, looking at him as he searched for any scar on your beautiful skin. You grabbed his waist softly, telling him that you were fine. Suddenly, you noticed something wet on your hand—it was blood.
"M-Mingi, you're hurt…"
He looked a bit down, just to notice his drenched shirt—but he only smiled.
"It's okay, love. It has happened before."
You were too stunned to speak. No words could leave your mouth as you saw how relaxed he was, while you felt like passing out on the spot.
"Can you help me with a med kit?"
You stood up and ran to search for it, while he was just looking at you in awe—he truly found you cute. Maybe love at first sight was really a thing, and he was witnessing it right now.
"Here… tell me how I can help."
He raised his shirt softly, revealing a wound, making you gasp—again.
"It's okay, lovely. Just help me with the band-aids, so I can go home and treat it properly."
"Will you be okay…?"
He nodded, kissing your cheek softly before he stood up like nothing happened.
"Thank you, doll, for everything. See you again."
You were shocked. As you were laying on the ground like a teenager in love, you remembered that you still had to wait for Seonghwa. The events drained your energy, and you were already tired, so you took some time to think if waiting for him was worth it or if you could just go home.
What are you gonna do?
Wait for Seonghwa Go home
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